


cigarettes and loneliness

by hurryup, nea_writes



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Worship, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunken Kissing, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Includes Art, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 17:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 66,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurryup/pseuds/hurryup, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/pseuds/nea_writes
Summary: Everybody's somebody's fool.Kanda's in love. Link's in love. Drunk and miserable at one of Allen's parties, the two of them come up with a mad plan: pretend to date to make their respective crushes jealous. It would be a perfect plan, too, if it weren't for two slight complications. For one, they're in love with the same person.The other? They just might be falling a little bit in love with each other, too.





	1. Chapter 1

Allen was hosting another party.

Kanda didn't even know why he came to these fucking things, he always hated them. Filled with people he didn't know, reeking of beer and food and sweat, music and loud laughter.

Allen was in many ways the ideal host, making rounds across the room. He'd flit from Lavi to Lenalee to Link with breezy ease, encouraging the drunken antics of his friends with easy laughter while never drinking himself.

He'd come bother Kanda occasionally, stopping at his shoulder to ask him how his night was going. These exchanges almost always devolved into bickering. The relative friendliness of their bickering was a constant variable, occasionally toeing the boundaries of a full-blown argument. They were exhausting, they were ridiculous, and they were completely, totally  _miserable._

Most miserable of all, though, was when someone from the far side of the room called out Allen's name and Kanda was forced to watch his retreating back move back into the crowds. It left him feeling somewhat sick, an usual sensation that could only be drowned out by drunkenness.

There weren't even many places to sit. The little furniture there was were overloaded with people and the empty floor space was filled with them, too. Even the walls were bare, no photos, no shelves, nothing that said _here, this is who Allen Walker is, was, had been._

Kanda knew for a fact that there was a box in his room stuffed with all the photos Lenalee took and framed for him, of the gifts and books and tiny treasures he hesitated to ever put out.

Kanda tilted his beer back until he'd swallowed it all, dropping it and eyes immediately returning to track Allen's movement across the apartment. He stood out with his white hair and pressed clothes. Allen's apartment wasn't as big as Kanda's, but somehow the mass of people fit, shoving and pulling and grinding on Kanda, which was a big fucking _hell no._

With a sigh he pushed off the wall and headed to the kitchen, ignoring Lenalee's inquiring glance and Lavi's laughter mixing with Allen's. At the very least, he thought, glancing from the counter and icebox before shrugging and preparing a few shots, Allen's place was always well-stocked.

Allen laughed and Kanda could hear it as if he were right next to him instead of clear across the room. It sounded real, not the fake polite ones but something genuine. Kanda couldn't see who was by him with all the people in between, but it didn't really matter. It still wasn't him.

He knocked the shot back.

It went down hard, tasting hot and sharp and hitting his stomach like a sword-swallower's sword. Although it did nothing to improve his mood, it did somewhat alleviate the knot of anxiety that was taking root in him. The crowds, the lights, the noise: they weren't for him. Every night they did this, he felt like he was slipping into an ill-fitting suit.

He had the vague suspicion that Allen felt much the same, that all that laughter and conversation was little more than a second skin. An impressive costume he wore to death in the hopes that someday, one day, it might fit him after all. The strain in his smile seemed to suggest as much.

Stupid of him, pushing himself to be something he wasn't. But then again, so long as Allen was throwing them, Kanda would force himself to show up, too.

_Everybody's somebody's fool._

Kanda tilted the next shot back. He didn't think about the way the cheap lights filtered through Allen's hair, or the way Allen's lips parted around his words, or the fact he just might really be Allen's fool after all.

Just kept drinking.

 

* * *

 

Whenever Link got invited to one of Allen's party, he deluded himself into thinking he might actually like it. So far, he'd been wrong every time. The delusion itself was more or less shattered the moment he stepped into the room, overwhelmed by the urgent pulse of some song he'd never heard and the tang of cheap beer he couldn't stand to drink. He just really wasn't the type.

The only reason he came at all was to spend time with Tokusa and Allen — which didn't work out when Allen was friends with every single person in the room, all of whom were about ten times more interesting and exciting than Link. Tokusa wasn't much better, being the worst kind of party drunk, uncontrollably wild when he wasn't mysteriously disappearing for hours at a time.

He was alone, now, hovering by the door with his back against the wall. Feeling abandoned and somewhat stupid, he accepted the first drink that was offered to him, desperate to have something to do with his hands. Standing outside the action, he felt less like a participant and more like an observer — he could do nothing but watch.

His gaze stopped dead on Allen and lingered there. Allen was very easy to watch. Too easy. He made across the room with deft grace, encouraging conversation wherever there was a lull, never missing a cue or social beat. It was an almost seamless act. Almost.

Link knew him well enough by now to know better.

Allen nursed only one beer for most of the evening, maybe two. He hung off his friends, an arm around someone's shoulder, hugs that seemed to last unbearably long. There was something unpleasant about the way they clung to him, something that had Link reaching blindly for another drink just so that he wouldn't be tempted to march over there and do... something. Anything.

There was a smattering of excited shouts. The volume of the music exploded, a distant thrum coalescing into a din. Someone was grabbing Allen by the wrist, begging for a dance.

_They don't know him like I know him,_ Link reminded himself. His grip tightened around his bottle, the heat of his hands at odds with the icy cold glass. This is nothing. This is nothing.

Then, Allen grinned and relented to the quest, looking beautiful and dangerous and  _alive._

Link couldn't dance a single step, but for Allen?

For Allen, he'd do anything.

Suddenly, Link felt sick. Sick of the ferocious pulse of someone else's song. Sick of the overwhelming heat of too many human bodies packed up into one room. More than anything, he felt sick of himself. His own jealousy left a sour taste in his mouth, a flavor so overwhelmingly foul it couldn't be washed out by beer alone.

Link escaped into the kitchen, desperate for something that might do the trick.

He'd never really been much a drinker. As good a time as any to start.

He shuddered through his first shot, slamming the empty glass back down against the counter before filling it back up.

By the time he'd downed his fourth shot, Link was beyond comfortably buzzed. He felt more relaxed than he had all evening, too. Less anxious. Less stifled.

Less like himself.

He straightened up and leaned back against the counter top. At the far end of the kitchen, he saw Kanda downing something dark and amber. Link had never particularly liked Kanda, never liked the attitude he took towards Allen. It was crass. Unbecoming. He could, however, respect the way Kanda could drink without even flinching.

_Not bad to look at, either,_ some part of Link's brain added, a part that had grown weak and warm with liquor. An odd thought, but not an untrue one. Link certainly wasn't in a position to fight it. Looking at Kanda was, at the very least, less painful than looking at Allen — despite the obvious drawback of his personality.

He shifted and swayed a little, and decided the space beside Kanda looked a lot more stable than standing on his own. Kanda didn't pay him any mind even as Link settled next to him.

Kanda, Link decided, was more than a little drunk. There was a flush high across his cheekbones, and a burning in his eyes. Where he normally kept himself rigid and in control, he was lax instead, leaning against the wall, head tilted back and glaring holes into the ceiling as an empty shot glass dangled between his loose fingers.

On a whim, Link leaned forwards and plucked it from Kanda's grip, observing the residue left behind from the drink and the smudge of Kanda's lips on the rim. He turned it, held it up to the light, pressed his lips where Kanda's was and tilted it back so that the last drop landed on his tongue.

"There was nothing there," Kanda remarked, and Link glanced up at him.

"I know," Link said, dropping his hand to bounce lightly on the wall. Across the room Allen was dancing with someone, not quite grinding against one another but close enough. Close enough that Link wanted to  _hiss._ Instead, he sucked in a sharp breath, tasting the liquor on his tongue and the echo of envy beneath. He turned aside, towards Kanda, and found him looking straight ahead, fury in his eyes. "I don't know why I come to these things."

At that Kanda barked a short laugh, less humorous and more belligerent. "Wish I didn't fucking know!"

Link frowned, lifting his eyes from the cut of Kanda's jaw to his furrowed brow, blue eyes unfocused.

"What does that mean?" He demanded, attempting to follow Kanda's gaze when he sighed sharply, glancing down.

"Nothing," he said at last, reaching down to grasp the neck of an abandoned bottle. He shook it and then upended it, nothing but a drop falling free. Link's fingers twitched around the glass in his hand with the impulse to catch the drop, but he just watched it. "Nothing that makes a difference."

Link wanted to know. Kanda intrigued him in the way a pretty face in a crowd would, and he found himself startled by the realization that there was an actual person hiding somewhere behind it. Link put up fronts, and Allen built fortresses. Maybe Kanda's unpleasantness was part of some greater facade. Maybe there was something worth knowing there, beyond passing glances and nonsense dreams, thinking _fuck he's hot._

But he normally didn't think much beyond it — not like how he thought of Allen. Of the way his fingers might feel intertwined with his, of how soft his hair might be, of building up enough courage to stay at Allen's side at these parties, dreaming and hoping and aching to have Allen's smile for himself.

Still, he could appreciate Kanda's good looks. Drunk as he was, that was enough to pave the way for more.

"Tell me," Link pressed, mouthing the words again when they came out more slurred than he'd intended. He made to set the shot glass down but lost his balance, sliding along the wall and landing against Kanda, shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. Kanda was steady, enough so that when Link could finally press a firm hand against the wall he didn't bother to really move back. Kanda didn't seem to care either, so Link stayed.

At this point Link had lost track of the conversation, but God he didn't want to be alone. Not against this cold wall, watching Allen Walker laugh and dance and only send him fleeting glances, never staring like Link did, no.

Link adjusted himself, pulling his feet closer to the wall and sliding higher, the fabric of their shirts bunching between their arms. Kanda finally seemed to notice, looking down at Link. Belatedly, Link realized how very blue Kanda's eyes were, even in the dim lighting.

"I hate him," Kanda said, the words crowding between them, breath on Link's cheeks. "I hate this— this, this _bullshit!_ Fuck it," Kanda snapped, jerking aside to focus across the room. "What the fuck do you care? Why're you even here?"

Link cared. He cared a lot, actually. Link looked to Allen again, wishing that Allen was looking at him too. "I'm just here because the person I like doesn't like me back." Immediately his eyes shot to his feet, cheeks burning because  _goddammit_ he hadn't meant to say that!

"Can't imagine why," Kanda said, and before Link could decide if it was an insult or a compliment he continued. "Well, I'm in the same fucking boat, so."

He lifted the beer bottle as if to toast, saw Link didn't have anything in his hand, and shrugged, dropping the bottle to his side again.

Somehow, this didn't surprise Link. Unrequited love actually suited Kanda, in an odd way. Sure, Link thought, Kanda was hot, but he was also foul-mouthed and bad-tempered. The kind of person someone might want to fuck, but not date. If he had a hidden heart of gold, it took far too much digging to find.

"What the  _fuck_ did you say?" Kanda demanded, glaring at Link and making as if to grab him. Instead he missed, slamming his free hand on the wall over Link's shoulder, crowding him in. Link squared his shoulders, meeting Kanda's heated gaze for all it was worth.

Link wasn't even quite sure what he was and wasn't saying, and it was even harder to think with Kanda looming over him like this, the space between them so fucking hot he was torn between pushing Kanda away and pulling him closer. Instead he used one hand to push his bangs away from where they clung to his temples, ignoring the way his arm brushed against Kanda's chest, eyes dropping to just over his shoulder.

Allen was watching them.

Link flushed head to toe, so overwhelmed he actually felt light-headed.

Who was he looking at? Link, Kanda? Both of them?

For the first time all night, Allen wasn't smiling.

Somehow, that made Link feel a little powerful.

He thought of Allen's hands, tucked around Lenalee's waist, curved along Lavi's nape, tight around his drink. Thought of all that heat, of how blue Kanda's eyes were, of Kanda's forearm right by his face, close enough that Link could turn just a little, kiss the skin there, taste the lingering sweat. He wondered how the salty tang of it would blend with the taste of liquor, still heavy on his tongue. He wondered how Allen would feel about it, whether that feeling would be anything like what Link had felt, watching Allen disappear onto the dance floor.

Link pressed his hands firm against Kanda, molding to his ribs, his chest, over every breath he took.

Turnabout was fair play, wasn't it?

"What are you doing?" Kanda asked, voice almost lost under the music, the laughter, the heavy weight of Allen's gaze on them.

"Trying to make someone jealous," Link whispered back, sliding his hands up, digging in with his fingertips until Kanda's shirt curved around them, rivulets in the folds. He could feel when Kanda stopped breathing, flicked his gaze back over his shoulder to Allen and just as quickly looked away when he found him still staring.

"Jealous?" Kanda said, and Link heard the muted thud of the bottle landing on the carpeted floor. His other hand came up, pressed so close to Link against the wall that some loose strands of Link's braid were caught under his palm, pulling the slightest bit when Link tilted his head to look at Kanda.

"It doesn't mean anything," Link said quickly, focusing on Kanda's throat when he swallowed, hands reaching his shoulders, curving around his neck, fingers tangling into the hair there. It pulled Kanda forward slightly.

Then, the hesitance disappeared. Kanda stepped forward, between Link's parted legs, so little distance between them that when Link exhaled his stomach and chest slid along Kanda's, just briefly, a moment, until he inhaled, head foggy and filled with Kanda's scent, his sweat, the drink, the bass deep in his bones.

"Make them jealous," Kanda repeated, eyes brighter than Link had ever seen them.  _"Make them—"_ He moved even closer, pressed his hips flush against Link's. Link's gasp was cut short when Kanda ducked down and kissed him, hands grasping his hair to pull it back, angling deeper.

Link moaned deep in his throat, fingers threading further into Kanda's hair, open-mouthed and completely thoughtless as he pulled Kanda closer, because this is what he wanted, to feel, to touch and be touched, to gasp and feel it echoed back, to have Allen finally  _fucking look at him like that._

Abruptly Link pulled Kanda back, just a little, shifted his head slightly so that his lips rested just aside of Kanda's. He took a moment to catch his breath, head swimming with not just the booze but the intensity of the kiss. Kanda had other thoughts, shamelessly molding his body along Link's everywhere he could.

"Dating," Link breathed. "If we date, if we're together — we could make them. Jealous."

"Jealous," Kanda said, the word lost into Link's hair. Quietly, he muttered  _fuck,_ and then pulled away enough to meet Link's eyes. Before he could say anything there was a bright flash. Link and Kanda jerked to face the side and there was Lavi, sheepishly bringing his phone down.

"I forgot the flash?" He offered weakly, fingers madly typing even as he gave them a smile. "Oh well! It's on my story now!"

In that moment Link's sobriety hit him like a train wreck, but it was already too late.

With all the drunken confidence in the world Kanda slid his hand down Link's shoulder, his arm, to his hand and laced their fingers there, bringing it up between them for Lavi to see.

Smirking triumphantly, Kanda said, "It's fine. After all, I don't mind having my picture taken with my  _boyfriend._ "

It was like Link was shocked out of his own body. Distantly, he heard glass shattering. Lenalee gasped and Lavi dropped his phone, wide-eyed and gaping. "I thought you two were just drunk and fucking around, not _serious_ about it! Holy shit!" Then a muffled  _fuck_ as he ducked down to grab his phone, fumbling with it.

"Did you hear that, Allen? Did you have any idea?"

"No," Allen said, very faintly. Link realized the sound of shattering glass had come from him; a bottle of beer was lying in sopping pieces at his feet. He didn't even seem to realize it, either — his gaze had locked on Link and Kanda, frozen in place. "No, I didn't have a clue."

 

* * *

 

As soon as Link woke up, he wished he could be dead asleep again. The backs of his eyes were red with morning light, and his body was heavy and sluggish, skin coated in sweat and clothes stiff. Not to mention the vicious headache he had, dry mouth, and the hair clinging to the back of his neck. Groaning, he rolled over from his stomach and pushed himself up on his arms, hissing as the movement sent waves of pain through him.

He squinted, shut his eyes, and breathed for a moment. He felt overwhelming hot, and he was almost positive he was still wearing his clothes from yesterday.  Finally, after a minute or two, he opened them and slowly looked around.

This wasn't his room.

This wasn't Tokusa's room either. God, this wasn't his apartment at all. Stiffening as all the implications of that crashed through him, he dragged his gaze bit by bit, across framed photos too far for him to look at properly and a slender bookshelf crammed full, to the other side of the bed.

Lying next to him, pooling dark hair providing a sharp contrast to crisp white of the sheets, was Kanda.

Immediately Link jerked down at his pants, hands grasping the hem and sighing in relief when he found them buttoned. They were suffocating him a little, actually, but Link would rather suffer overheated and too-tight jeans then have drunken sex with  _Kanda._

Though, thinking it over, waking up next to someone so hot was kind of an ego booster. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

Link braced one hand against the mattress and pushed himself upright, ignoring the incoming wave of dizziness that threatened to topple him back down. He tried, somewhat desperately, to reorient himself. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed with Yuu Kanda. Kanda's bed? Most likely that, he decided. Lying hungover in Yuu Kanda's bed, then, with whom he had only  _probably_ not had sex with. A rather big probably, really.

Maybe, if Link was very quiet and very stealthy, he could sneak out and pretend none of this ever happened. It was all some fever dream, some drunken thought that manifested a bit too literally. He shifted backwards, hands reaching for the edge of the bed, when instead he hit something hard and unforgiving.

Wincing, Link drew his hand back and finally tore his gaze from Kanda. It was his phone, and it surprisingly still had battery left in it. The indicator light was blinking steadily, and Link took the moment to check his messages, curious and nervous over what he could've possibly missed.

It was nine am, the latest Link had slept in for a long time now, and he had messages not from just a possibly worried Tokusa or Tewaku, but from _every single person he knew._

Well,  _that_ didn't bode well.

He threw a nervous glance back at Kanda. He needed to get out and recoup, figure out what to do from there. He couldn't do that when a sleeping Yuu Kanda was laid out beside him, face lax, dark lashes against his cheeks, breathing deeply and so soundly Link was

tempted to lay back down and sleep the rest of this dream away.

His phone buzzed, and he was startled back to reality— apprehension override any lingering temptation he might've had to burrow into the sheets and hide from what was happening. He swiped across his phone's home screen, watching as his screen was slowly loaded with notification after notification.

[Tokusa, 7:21 AM]: DOTH MY EYES DECEIVE ME OR DID YOU LOCK LIPS WITH YUU KANDA

[Tokusa, 7:22 AM]: (Attached an image)

[Tokusa, 7:22 AM]: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU, you big slut

Link thumbed open Tokusa's attachment warily, cringing back as he was immediately assaulted with the photographic proof of his... drunken encounter with Kanda. The picture itself was almost hilariously terrible, dim and blurry and horrifically out of focus. Despite that, however, no one could deny it was, in fact, Link and Kanda. Kanda's body was crowded against Link's, the arc of his body powerful and aggressive where he was pressing up against Link, locked in what appeared to be an  _obscenely_ dirty kiss.

What was it Kanda had called Link, just then? His boyfriend?

Link resisted the urge to physically smack his face against the nearest hard surface.

What an absolute  _disaster._

He considered, for the briefest flash of a moment, actually attempting to deny it, but that would hardly get him anywhere now. For now, his best bet was probably just to ignore Tokusa. Instead, he skimmed through the rest of his messages, dread mounting into full-blown horror as he realized just how quickly the news had spread. Blame it on Lavi on Tokusa. Incorrigible gossips.

[Tewaku, 8:45 AM]: i thought you hated him? or is this the kind of thing where it, like, turns you on?

[Tewaku, 8:45 AM]: wait, no, don't tell me if it does. congratulations, i guess?

[Tewaku, 8:46 AM]: good for you! very confusing, but good.

[Madarao, 7:56 AM]: This seems really sudden. Are you that lonely, or were you just that drunk?

[Kanda, 1:06 AM]: AYYYYYYYYYYY SEXY, cant wait to get a slice of that sweet ass babycakes

He was fairly certain that last one was actually the result of Lavi stealing Kanda's phone at some point in the middle of the party. That knowledge didn't save him from being absolutely  _mortified._

He could see Allen's name pulsing at the bottom of his notification bar, but deliberated on pressing it, hesitating until up to the last second— he'd made this whole mistake with Allen in mind, and yet despite that, he had no idea what kind of reaction to anticipate. He didn't even know what kind of reaction he was hoping for.

[Allen, 4:22 AM]: when did you two start dating?

[Allen, 4:35 AM]: you never told me

[Allen, 4:35 AM]: haha

[Allen, 5:09 AM]: did you make it home alright?

Link bit his lip, eyes going wide as he took in Allen's response. Though there was nothing straightforwardly accusatory in Allen's words, something about his phrasing drove a spike of guilt directly through Link's heart. He felt as though he'd committed an act of unspeakable betrayal— a crime whose proof was forever frozen in one still-frame photograph of Kanda kissing Link to high heaven.

_You never told me._

He felt like he'd cheated on Allen. There was nothing righteous about that, nothing just or fair or powerful.

It was low. It was  _ugly._

Numbed by the thought, Link nearly dropped his phone, catching himself at only the last second before its slim silicone frame slipped from between his fingers. He shoved it into his pocket hastily, struggling to reorient his thoughts. At least one thing was clear to him, then: he desperately needed a glass of water. That was his next step. Get a glass of water. A manageable enough goal. If he could complete that, surely everything else would follow.

Relieved to have come to a clear decision, Link shifting forwards, moving to disentangle himself from the sheets and climb out of bed.

Before his feet could even touch the floor, he was yanked back by his wrist. He let out a startled breath, heart seizing up in surprise.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Kanda demanded sharply. Link's heart stopped and his stomach shriveled and dropped somewhere around his feet. He turned around to face Kanda's furious glare, eyes bloodshot but still striking even against the sunlight.

Link tugged at his wrist and when Kanda refused to let go, pulled harshly, dropping Kanda's propped arm out from under him. He hit the bed with a muted curse, and faster than Link could move away surged up on his knees and grabbed Link by his collar. "Don't you fucking run away!"

"Good  _Lord_ ," Link said, squeezing his eyes. "Would you lower your voice for once in your life?"

"The hell I will!" Kanda snapped, but nonetheless his voice was a few notches lower. More likely for his own headache than out of any consideration for Link, he thought snidely. "We need to talk."

Never before had the words opened up a black pit of apprehension in Link's stomach as they did now. Mouth dry, Link really wished he'd gotten that cup of water. "You... you actually remember?"

Kanda snorted, finally pulling back to sit cross-legged. He took the time to pull out the tie in his hair, reminding Link of the own disaster his was. He reached behind to grasp at his own braid, and Kanda continued, forearms twisting as he threaded his hair back. "I'm not a lightweight like you, of course I fucking remember."

The way he made it sound like an insult — everything he said was an insult, a snide remark, a statement meant to cut a person down. God, he was  _infuriating_ — what had Link been thinking?

Nothing, he'd been drunk. Only drunk would he have considered it at all.

"You should check your phone," Link said at last, flicking his finished braid over his shoulder. "Tell me where your bathroom's is," He added, desperately needing a moment to himself.

Kanda looked as if he wanted deny Link just to be an ass, but sighed sharply and glanced away, looking for his phone hidden in the folds of the bed. "Around the corner, first door on the right."

Even as Link left the room he could hear Kanda's angry curses as he found his phone and read all the messages. If even Lavi and Lenalee had texted him, then they wouldn't have spared Kanda.

In the bathroom, Link relieved himself and washed his face, hitting the sink angrily when his bangs hung drenched, strands of hair curling around his jaw. He hated being filthy, hated wearing day old clothes, hated stinking of cheap beer, sweat,  _of Yuu Kanda._ He was never letting a party get to him like that again.

_You never told me._

He greedily sucked in air, looking at his reflection. All he could see was that blurry picture, cheeks flushed, Kanda all around him, his pale fingers in Kanda's dark hair, the ink of his tattoos blending in with strands intertwined.

God, he could almost feel it again, the heat, the music, the drag of their shirts and Kanda's knee between his thighs, holding him to the wall as he tilted his head back and let Kanda lick a line down his throat.

This was such a mistake.

Figuring he'd stalled enough, Link combed his bangs into some semblance of order and straightened his clothes best he could, lip curling at how wrinkled they were. Why was he even at Kanda's in the first place?

He made his way back to Kanda's room, disoriented by the little he knew of where he was at. The short hall was filled with photographs, most of them of his friends, some people Link didn't recognize. A few featured Kanda, but in them all he was scowling or looking away.

So it wasn't just Link he treated that way, dismissive, rude, belligerent.

He pushed the half-closed door to the bedroom opened and found Kanda standing in front of a dresser pulling a shirt down over him. Link carefully kept his face blank, wishing Kanda would at least offer him a change of clothes even if Link would deny it.

He was staring blankly ahead, and Link remembered the way he'd stared at Allen's ceiling, not angrily, not sneering or glaring or dismissing the whole world including him, but for once just... existing. It disturbed Link to see it in a way it hadn't while drunk. But at his entrance the shields slammed down and Kanda turned to him, head tilted just enough to be condescending as he looked down.

He finished adjusting his shirt and reached for the phone laid on the dresser. It was lit, and all Link could see of it before Kanda pocketed it was that it was open to someone's message.

"Follow me," Kanda said, pushing past Link and knocking his shoulder back. Link glared at his back, reaching up to touch his shoulder before shaking it off. He wouldn't let his childish nonsense get to him.

Down the corridor, Kanda's apartment opened into a living room and kitchen. It was decidedly nicer and bigger than Allen's, and Link suddenly wondered what Kanda did for a living. On that thought followed all the other ones he didn't know about Kanda, and he realized that they really did need to talk.

Looking at this piece of Kanda felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down and knowing there was so much more but seeing none of it. Plants everywhere, green and vibrant, few florals but bright ones peppered here and there — and art. Canvas after canvas of what looked to Link less professional and more personal. Did Kanda draw them? Were they gifts? Who would gift Yuu Kanda art like this? If Link ever thought to give Kanda something he would've... would've what? Link didn't know the first thing about Kanda, let alone what to give as a gift.

Beyond the art and plants the furniture itself was simple but comfy, chosen less for the aesthetic and more the practicality of it, which Link could respect. He trailed Kanda into the kitchen where he took out orange juice and two glasses, pouring one for Link without asking.

Link took the offered drink and sipped it, frowning at the pulp. Kanda downed his as easily as he knocked back the shots Link had witnessed last night, and then poured another cup that he only sipped at this time.

"We're dating," Kanda said bluntly, and it took an impressive amount of will for Link not to spit out his drink.

"I  _beg_ to differ," Link scoffed. He could feel the beginnings of a flush rise to his neck and cheeks, and desperately attempted to divert himself by taking another sip from his glass. The last thing he wanted was for Kanda to see him flustered.

"Oh, get over it," Kanda snapped, eyes flashing dangerously bright. It was almost surreal, seeing such a poisonous scowl on such an otherwise delicately beautiful face. "We got ourselves into this goddamn mess, and we're gonna have to live with it."

"Don't be absurd," Link returned, pleased to find he sounded much calmer than he truly felt. "Do you honestly believe this an acceptable basis for a relationship — a shallow, petty mistake we both made while  _drunk out of our minds?"_

"Of course not, dumbfuck," Kanda spat, slamming his glass down and hissing when juice spilled over the side. He grabbed napkins from a dispenser and mopped it up, and Link distractedly remembered the line of glasses on Allen's bare counter, the disturbed sprinkling of salt and limes sucked dry. He flushed hot with the sudden memory of taking Kanda's shot glass and purposely matching his lips to Kanda's there, wishing he could bury his face in his hands. "But I don't see what other choice we've got, unless  _you'd_ care to explain to all our friends why we made the goddamn decision."

Link went quiet. He was drawn back, with vivid clarity, to the moment he'd first moved to touch Kanda. The way Kanda's eyes had gone dark. The inescapable weight of Allen's stare. The desperate taste of Kanda's kiss, the way he kissed as if to prove a point. A terrible idea, executed mindlessly beneath the gauzy haze of convenience store liquor.

_Trying to make someone jealous._

"No point in being embarrassed now," Kanda continued, staring down at his hands before dismissively turning away. He tossed the napkins and washed his hands, and Link could only watch the fall of water over his fingers and wrists.

"We're dating," Link said, initial disbelief slowly settling into a numb acceptance.

"Dating," Kanda confirmed, turning to meet Link's stare. "Don't think I actually like you."

"Don't worry, I actually have taste," Link sniffed, not only offended but defensive.

"God, just shut up," Kanda said, downing the rest of his orange juice. "You're so fucking pretentious." Then, before Link could snap a word back, he said, "We gotta get this shit straight if we're going anywhere with it. Especially because I have to go in two hours to this stupid weekly brunch thing Lenalee does, so suck it up."

He... he wasn't wrong, Link conceded. Link wished he was though. He held back a sigh and looked down at the glass in his hands, thinking to wash it but not wanting to move near Kanda who stood at the sink.

"Besides, it's not like anything's fucking changed since last night," Kanda said in a tone so suddenly vicious it startled Link. "I have someone I want to make jealous. _You_ have someone you want to make jealous. Unless that's no longer the case, for some reason?"

"It... still is," Link said, words tripping from his tongue reluctantly. Jealous. The word brought him back to the promise they'd made last night, desperate and lonely and wild with liquor. He thought of Kanda pressed against him. Kanda's tongue in his mouth, hot and wet. Kanda's hands in his hair, and his day-old scent clinging to Link's body. A shiver danced down Link's spine, following the phantom trail of Kanda's hands. He willed the memory away, stalling on Kanda's offer. "Do you  _seriously_ believe that'll work?"

"No idea," Kanda said. He folded his arms one over the other, appraising Link with a steely look in his eyes. "But it's a shot. Take it or leave it."

"Hardly a romantic proposition," Link said without thinking, and Kanda bristled.

Ah, and this was where Kanda floundered. He was so aggressive by nature, to the detriment of the delicate situation at hand. Link was momentarily amused by Kanda's petty temper. However, it was a short-lived humor. The gravity of the situation was resting just underneath his skin, threatening to overwhelm him as he began to count off all the details they'd need to take care of.

How they met, how they began... dating, as it was. Link wasn't romantically inclined — he couldn't even begin to think of half the questions others would normally ask.

But then he thought of Allen with someone else, dating someone else, and all the questions came easily.

"How did we start dating?"


	2. Chapter 2

"How did you start dating?"

Lavi spoke nasally through a bloodied nose Kanda personally had given him. Kanda was proud of it, even — the blood had stained the entire front of his shirt and probably ruined that scarf. It didn't stop him from still talking though, and Kanda wondered if plain knocking him out would've just been better, Lenalee's ensuing anger notwithstanding.

"None of your fucking—" Lenalee's sharp cough cut Kanda's spiteful words off, so he glowered at his plate instead. He hated these meals. It was always at some trendy diner that Kanda swore to god put sugar even on eggs. It was horrendous. He stabbed at the eggs. Link shot Kanda a quick, reproachful glare, as if reminding him to _stay on script._  He'd written an honest to God script out, one that Kanda was freely ignoring.

Allen cleared his throat and sent Lavi a smile that glittered so much Kanda squinted against it. "You shouldn't pry so much, Lavi," a hint of warning in his voice that Kanda could decipher as  _if you don't stop I'll personally make you._

"But we want to know!" Lenalee insisted, cupping her chin with her hand, leaning forward. "I mean, no one expected it, you know?"

Allen turned his frown on her, but all she did was smile back. They battled it a moment but Allen eventually relented, shifting lower in his seat and viciously eating his pancakes.

"It's a harmless enough question," Link said firmly. Kanda had a feeling that he was directing his words specifically towards Kanda rather than Allen or Lenalee. "From an outside perspective, I'm sure this seems... sudden."

He reached to squeeze Kanda's hand, fixing him with an expectant stare. Kanda sighed, turning away when he found Lavi staring at him, and swallowed a mouthful of eggs.

"We got to talking," Kanda said reluctantly. "After one of beansprout's parties, maybe two weeks ago."

"I have a name," Allen muttered petulantly, a complaint no one listened to.

Lavi looked mildly amazed. "Talking? Actually talking? With  _words?_  How unlike you, Yuu."

"Perhaps  _grunting_ is a better term whereas Kanda is concerned. His responses do tend towards the monosyllabic," Link said. He patted Kanda's hand lightly in a passable imitation of genuine affection. Kanda felt torn between which of them he wanted to murder first.

Allen slurped loudly from his drink until Lenalee slapped his arm. Then he moved to tapping his fork against the edge of the plate, and Kanda wondered when his manners got so fucking abysmal.

"Alright, but  _how_ did you end up going out? Who asked who?" Lenalee asked, way too eager to find out in Kanda's opinion. Couldn't they just let it rest?

"Kanda asked me," Link said confidently, and Kanda's grip tightened around his knife, tearing it viciously through his food to fork into his mouth.

 _"Really?"_ Lenalee gasped. "Come on, give us details!"

Link pretended to look down as if embarrassed, and all of it made Kanda sick to his stomach. Was any of it even fucking working? He glanced up at Allen and found him absorbed in his food, like always. He couldn't even look up, couldn't even  _pretend_ to be interested.

Link nudged Kanda's foot with his own, probably telling him it was his turn. What the hell was he supposed to say? "It was — oh, fuck it!"

Lavi laughed, and Kanda was really getting tired of it. From the get-go when Kanda and Link had walked in holding hands — a debacle in and of itself a block from the diner because Kanda sure as hell didn't want to but Link demanded they needed it to sell the story — Lavi started howling with laughter and Kanda was compelled to cave his face in just to end it.

"It wasn't as big a deal as I'm sure you're expecting, Miss Lee."

Lenalee politely laughed, taking a measured sip of her drink. "Just call me Lenalee— but you have to give us more than just that!"

"You know Yuu," Lavi said with a vague hand gesture, looking particularly proud of his little tongue twister. "Probably just kissed Link to — I don't know, shut him up? — and considered it 'confessing." Beside him Allen choked on his hash browns and Lavi helpfully whacked him on the back a few times.

Then, Lavi's face brightened and Kanda felt all his dread and apprehension coil into a singular point in his stomach. "If you'd rather not tell us anything," Lavi began, the hand on Allen's back sliding to rest across his shoulders. Kanda scowled, tensing and glaring at the fingers curled so tightly on Allen's shoulder it folded the fabric there. "You could just show us."

"Show you?" Link spluttered, in such a way that it immediately aggravated Kanda. Everything was aggravating him, they were sitting too close, all of them, especially Lavi and Allen, it was too hot, too loud—

"Just give him a kiss!" Lavi said, and Lenalee clapped her hands in agreement.

Allen slammed his hand on the table, and spoke around teeth gritted so hard in a glittering smile it only made sense that Kanda should do the exact opposite of what he said with that voice, that smile, that look in his eyes. "Lavi,  _don't be rude._ I'm sure they don't want to be put on display like that." He laughed then, a cheap echoing thing.

"A bit late for that," Lavi began, but before he could finish Kanda twisted in his seat towards Link.

The whole point was to make Allen jealous, right? Link better not say shit about it.

He slid his hand just under the base of Link's braid, cupping his nape and encouraging the startled jerk Link gave into a full turn, kissing him there in front of Allen, Lenalee, the whole diner and God.

Like last time, Link was almost endearingly startled, and Kanda took advantage of that, closing his eyes and tracing Link's mouth with his tongue. It made Link soft and pliant, and Kanda spread his fingers, tilting Link's head back.

Link tasted like coffee, whipped cream, the fruit drizzled crepes he was eating — and then himself, and Kanda never liked sweets, no, but like this it wasn't so bad. He let the kiss last a moment longer before pulling away, drawing his thumb over his bottom lip.

"Happy?" Kanda demanded. Link sat back with a blank look, cheeks flushed vividly, and Kanda's chest swelled. He did that,  _he_ did that. Link grabbed the back of his chair, still facing Kanda, and covered half his face with his other hand, the dark ink of his tattoo and normal tone of his hand calling out the red in his cheeks even more.

Satisfied, Kanda turned towards Allen, and felt a rush, then. Allen's eyes were dark, burning, staring at Kanda with such a single-minded focus that Kanda almost reached across the table, grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. Force that angry defiance into something pliable like he'd done Link.

In Link there was the pride of being able to do it, but in Allen? Turning him red, leaving him weak-kneed, voiceless — God, Kanda could level cities with the force of that need.

"Wow, Yuu."

Lavi's voice jerked him from the moment, and he finally looked away from Allen. Lenalee was pink-cheeked, a hand hiding a smile, and Lavi looked more or less impressed. "I didn't take you for an exhibitionist."

"Don't  _exaggerate,_ Lavi," Allen managed out, voice weak, and Kanda thrived on the knowledge that surely  _he'd_ done that. Allen tapped his fork against the edge of his plate rapidly once, twice, thrice, before abruptly forcing it into the middle of his omelet, breaking it open. He swallowed a forkful and smiled all the wider for it. "Well, you've got your answer now. We shouldn't bother them anymore."

Lavi's finally withdrew his arm from around Allen, nursing his pink abomination of a drink. "I didn't think the party was the first time they'd kissed but wow, you two sure aren't shy about it."

At that Allen's gaze sharpened, pinning Kanda to his seat. Link was still red in the ears, and from where Kanda could see, at the nape of his neck too, but he didn't seem to notice the line of conversation, eyes determinedly on his clasped hands in his lap.

 _"When_ did you get together?" Allen demanded.

When? Had Link decided a date? No, it was the one thing they hadn't considered. 'Yesterday' definitely wasn't a good answer, and Link was still shocked silent. Kanda had half a mind to kiss him again in hopes of starting him back up.

They couldn't just leave the question hanging though, and Kanda glanced around for an answer, eyes darting from point to point. A couple of days ago? A month ago? No, Kanda couldn't lie for shit there was no way he could hide a relationship that long either.

Shorter than a month then, but longer than 'since yesterday'.

"Two weeks ago," Kanda said, at the same time Link finally decided to rouse and state firmly, "A week and a half ago."

Link looked at him, aghast, while Kanda cursed him. He fumbled, all the while spitting insults at Link internally. This is why Kanda didn't lie — it was too complicated and left everybody confused and it served no greater purpose other than to incite Kanda's ire like this.

"It took a few days," Link began, stiltedly, "for Kanda to actually say something and not just act it."

He was going to kick Link's ass once all of this was over, of that he was sure. There was no fucking way Kanda would hesitate that long. But Lavi was nodding thoughtfully and Lenalee had gone starry-eyed, sighing into her drink dreamily, and Allen?

Allen had the sourest look on his face, like someone had personally decided to spit on his food, and for that alone Kanda could forgive Link.

Mercifully, the conversation finally turned away from them. Kanda didn't pay much mind to what was said afterwards, only keeping half an eye on Allen, who seemed more distracted than usual.

When the bill came Kanda snagged Link's before it could be handed it to him, tucking his receipt into his own and smoothly laying it aside with his card.

Link scowled. "I can pay for myself just fine," he said, waspish.

Didn't the idiot get it was all for show? "Doesn't matter," was all Kanda said.

Lenalee positively cooed, apparently touched by Kanda's display of chivalry. Link sat and steamed, watching unhappily as Kanda paid for the both of their breakfasts. Link might have their stories down a little better, but he was useless when it came to the gestures. It was little gestures like these, Kanda was certain, what would actually sell this sham of a relationship.

A few lies might provoke Allen's imagination, sure. But why rely on imagination when Kanda could just show Allen what he was missing?

When it was time to leave, Kanda made sure to grab Link by the hand. Aggressively. A tad too aggressive, really; the gesture felt forced and awkward, Link's wrist bending funny to accommodate the insistent tug of Kanda's hand. It felt anything but intimate, but no one other than the two of them seemed to notice. In fact, Allen positively  _hissed_ at the sight of their hands clasped together, the stilted tone of his goodbye evident to even Kanda.

Kanda wasn't perfect at this whole fake-dating thing, but obviously, he was pretty damn good.

The thought filled him with a smug sense of victory, and as he led Link out of the diner —the shorter man stumbling after him with a look of mild exasperation— he could barely contain himself from outright smirking back at Allen.

The moment the two of them were out of their friends' sights, Kanda released Link's hand. Link startled, very nearly tripping.

"Well, that went spectacular," Kanda said, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now give me my fifteen dollars back.

"I suppose it was something of a stretch to imagine you being kind for the sake of kindness."

"Hell yeah it was," Kanda groused. "Now pay up."

Link rolled his eyes, unimpressed, but went digging for his wallet all the same.

 

* * *

 

 

"If we want to stand up to actual scrutiny," Link said, "we're going to need to get our act together."

He was standing just behind Kanda, arms folded, eyebrow quirked into an expression of critical judgement. This was a favourite expression of his, Kanda was coming to realize, and not a charming one with that. He answered it with a huff of exasperation, inserting the key into the lock of his apartment door and turning it with brisk force.

"Oh, quit whining," Kanda sniped back. He'd never had much patience for Link to begin with. Prolonged exposure was making him irritable. He swung the front door of his apartment open and stalked inside, kicking his shoes off as he went. "We're doing fine. We sold it to Lenalee, Lavi, and Allen, didn't we?"

"Just  _barely,_ " Link pointed out, insufferably pedantic. After a moment's hesitation, he began toeing out of his own shoes as well, lining them up neatly  by the front step before crossing the threshold.

It had been odd, waking up to find Link in his apartment that morning. It was doubly odd to see him there again, back for the second time that day. He had the unshakeable sense that Link just didn't belong here — an intruding element among Kanda's white walls and family photographs. Whatever that feeling was, Link seemed to feel it too. He looked distinctly ill at ease. Disquieted. It gave Kanda the impression that all Link really wanted was to go home.

Yeah, well. That wasn't a fucking option, as it turned out. At least not immediately. The trouble was, Link's human smirk of a roommate, Tokusa, was currently lounging about their shared apartment, nursing his hangover and incensing online gossip. Apparently, he was almost certain to grill Link, and would be a harder sell than the starry-eyed likes of Lenalee.

A reinforcement of strategy was their first order. Without any prying eyes to bother them, Kanda's apartment made the ideal war room.

Kanda slouched down onto his couch unceremoniously. Link seemed to take this as permission to sit himself, taking the seat opposite Kanda. The gaping space between them was decidedly unromantic, in contrast to their shoulder-to-shoulder seating at brunch.

They didn't talk about the kiss.

They didn't even mention it. Not a word. That didn't keep Kanda from thinking about it, though, and he had the creeping suspicion it was lingering in Link's thoughts as well. How could it not? Kanda could still practically taste that kiss, an undercurrent of sweetness that even the black bitterness of his coffee couldn't completely erase.

 _Well,_ Kanda thought,  _why the hell should we talk about it?_

There was nothing to talk about, after all. The kiss was nothing. It meant  _nothing._ Soon enough, it would hardly be anything special. There would, after all, surely be more kisses. Kisses every inch as lush and performative. Kisses equally devoid of any deeper sentiment. Kisses with impersonal motivations. Kisses with an agenda.

After all, Link would want to kiss Kanda in front of his own... somebody. The person he was pining after. The one he was trying to make jealous.

Hopefully, they'd enjoy the show Link put on —the pliancy, the soft parting of his lips, the barely— there tremble. It was a masterclass on acting. His consummate artifice.

Distantly, Kanda wondered who that  _somebody_ might be. They were at Allen's party, weren't they? That meant it was almost certainly someone Kanda knew.

Maybe it was Tokusa. The two of them certainly seemed close enough. It would also explain why Link was so adamant on improving their act and passing his inspection. Then there was Tewaku, who hung off Link's arm frequently enough to be a viable possibility herself. Kanda tried to visualize the two of them together. The image didn't quite add up.

"We did good enough," Kanda said. "What should I have done, bend you over ass-up in front of the whole damn restaurant?"

Link flushed hot, but his anger was ice cold. It was nothing like Allen's occasional outbursts of passion or Kanda's own temper. His next words were freezing, measured and purposeful.

"I'll have you know your attitude is not helpful in the slightest."

"My  _attitude?_ " Kanda snorted derisively. "Yeah, like  _you're_ convincing anyone. You're fucking frigid, you know that?"

"At least I'm not openly hostile," Link bit back, sounding so absolutely contemptuous that Kanda wanted to lean over and smack him.

Selling the lie had been one thing. Maintaining it would be much harder.

"Fine! Fucking fine!" Kanda seethed.  Kanda leaned forwards, aggressive, grasping artlessly at the space left in between them to grab at Link's hand. "How's this?  _Romantic_ enough for you yet?"

Link let out a sound of quiet exasperation.

"Not at all." He squirmed, making a half-hearted attempt to wrench his hand free from Kanda's grip. "That's rather painful, actually."

"Oh," Kanda said, realizing he'd been squeezing Link's hand somewhat mercilessly. He reluctantly loosened his hold. Link sighed in relief, seeming to momentarily defrost in his gratitude.

"Here," Link said. He moved to lace their fingers so that the two of them were intertwined. It was gentle. Warm. There was something masculine about Link's hands — a detail that came in sharp contrast with Link's fair-haired, prim exterior. Kanda could feel the rough suggestion of callouses over the palm of his hands, masked beneath the dark thread of that strange, lone tattoo. He wondered what Link had done to earn those callouses. Then, he wondered about the tattoo — and whether Link was hiding any more beneath his clothes.

"Something like that should be more appropriate," Link went on, firm. "Remember, you're dating me, not trying to kill me."

"Not yet."

Kanda was focused on their hands so he couldn't see Link's expression, but he imagined it was one of the few he had — annoyed, pinched, disinterested, or plain blank. Not that Kanda really had much room to judge when he only had two, flat and angry, but still.

He relaxed his fingers then folded them back over, settling in the grooves between Link's pronounced knuckles. Here, their differences were much more obvious. Link's nails were a bit more blunt, but neater. Kanda's skin was warm honey next to his pale tone, blue veins tracing patterns. The contrast of that fair, fair skin against the black of the tattoo was actually alarming. It seemed grave, somber. Kanda supposed that sort of suited Link after all.

He felt overly aware, conscious of every shift and twitch of their hands. He wasn't used to holding hands with anyone — why should he be? He had no reason to. It seemed downright useless and annoying, really.

On an idle whim, he ran his thumb over Link's knuckles. With a touch as light as spider silk, he found himself tracing the winding curves of Link's tattoo around his fingers and over his palm.

It was then Kanda noticed Link had gone very, very still. He glanced up, finally catching the expression resting on Link's face.

Link looked positively  _unnerved._

Kanda released Link's hand sharply, retracting from it as it had actually burned him. Link drew his hand up back to his chest, cradling it wordlessly. Bewildered. Unsettled. Maybe even a little sick.

Well. That was just to be fucking expected, wasn't it? It wasn't like Link wanted to be touched by Kanda.

Kanda scowled and shifted, placing more space between them as he brought his knee up and tucked his foot flat against his leg, crossing his arms.

Link exhaled sharply, breaking the silence. "We need to plan this better. Going about this without having our facts or stories straight is senseless. If we want this to work, if we want to succeed, we have to do better."

Kanda's face twisted further but he had to concede the point. "And what do you think we should be doing?" Kanda asked, voice just hinting on condescending.

Link's furrowed brows told Kanda he caught the tone, but he seemingly ignored it, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Stereotypical displays of affection — hand holding, as we did. Kissing," Link's voice faltered slightly, and Kanda remembered his earlier taste of pride. "Dates."

 _Dates?_ It sounded sour coming from Link and echoed just as nastily in Kanda's mind. Bad enough he had to pretend in front of others, but going out of his way to spend more time with Link seemed like asking for a migraine. This entire charade was doing more harm than good, Kanda thought. But it was too late.

Link shifted, clearly uncomfortable under Kanda's unforgiving scrutiny.

"What do you like to do?" Link asked, voice perfectly brisk now that Kanda was cooperating some. Kanda ran through his list of hobbies and found none of them were conducive to dating. He was solitary by nature and trying to fit Link into his life was like shoving a circle into a square.

"Just go out to eat once a week and call it a date," Kanda said, refusing to tolerate any other notion. "But I'm not paying for your fucking dinner. Not this time."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Link said, just as butter-smooth as before. It was almost enough for Kanda to give into temptation and hassle Link for the hell of it. To break that facade of perfection. He'd done it before and hell, it'd been great. "We just need the appearance of being in love."

Being in love! Kanda nearly wanted to laugh.

"And speaking of appearances," Link continued, pulling his phone out. It was some sleek newer model, silver and shiny and thin. Link's thumb tapped out a complex password before navigating through the apps. "Give me your hand again."

"What?" Kanda demanded, recoiling. "The fuck for?"

Link gave him a look. "I'm going to post a picture. So they can see." He enunciated each word carefully and Kanda wanted to slug him for it. Instead, he stuck his hand out, scowling when Link carefully interlaced their hands. Kanda's fingers just brushed the top of Link's tattoo, framing the dark ink and contrasting Link's skin against his further. Link arranged Kanda's fingers to his liking, a strange detail, and took five minutes angling his phone until he snapped a photo he deemed satisfactory.

The moment Link was done Kanda wrenched his hand away, rubbing his fingernails into his palms at the lingering sensation. Link paid him no mind, editing the photo. "Do you have an Instagram account?" Link asked.

Kanda blanked. He had a bunch of useless apps Lenalee or Lavi periodically installed for him, but he had no idea what they were. He shrugged, uncaring. Link tilted the phone for Kanda to see and he leaned in, giving a cursory glance.

He had no idea what the hell Link had done, but it was strange to see his own hand there holding Link's, as if the photographic evidence made it all so much more real. More, even, than the drunken shot of them kissing. That'd had the grainy blurred effect, as if from a dream. This, clean and bright and well-defined, was like the final seal. It was real and happening.

He was dating Howard Link.

"Oh," Link said quietly, "Walker's already liked it."

Kanda almost snatched the phone from Link's hand to look at it, but he didn't actually know what it meant or what he'd even be looking for. What did that even mean? Allen liked it? Liked him holding Link's hand? What the fuck?

"Lenalee commented," Link continued. "I... I don't actually know what she means. It's just a bunch of crying and hearts. And fire?"

Then Link frowned. "Someone... I don't know who this is, but they liked it too. I think they're your... I think you may know them?"

Kanda glanced back over and felt his entire body flush in mortification as he saw a name he strove to avoid at all costs.

♥ by dangoemojis, lenalady, anime_bob_ross

Oh,  _fuck_ no.

"Delete it right now," Kanda said, staring in horror.  _"Delete it."_

"Why?" Link asked, "Is this someone you know?"

As if on cue, his phone vibrated angrily in his pocket and Kanda closed his eyes, knowing who it was. He'd already received a number of similar messages in the past few hours, and seeing that name on Link's photo was the final straw.

Wearily he retrieved his phone and stared at the onslaught of messages. Not only Tiedoll, but Daisya, Lavi, Lenalee, and even Miranda had texted him, granted it was on behalf of Marie, but still.

"My adoptive father," Kanda grit out in way of an explanation.

"Your  _adoptive_ father?" Link repeated disbelievingly.

"Yeah, and he wants us to go to dinner...  _together_... with him. And my fucking adoptive brothers."

"Your brothers?" Link sounded hopelessly lost.

"Yeah, are you deaf? That's what I fuckin' said."

"I'm just surprised," Link said, a little defensive. "You've never mentioned this before."

"No reason to," Kanda said simply, glaring down at his phone. He was loathe to reply yes or no and be forced into an even grosser conversation about his supposedly 'cute' boyfriend. As if there was anything about Howard fucking Link that could possibly be considered  _cute._

"And he... wants us to go to dinner. Together. Soon?"

Kanda pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed sharply, and locked his phone, setting it aside. "He wants to know when you're free. Any day is fine with him. He'll clear his schedule for any day."

Link closed out of their photo and thumbed across several apps. Link's phone was of a different model than Kanda's, and he understood even less of Link's phone than his own. Soon enough he pulled up a densely packed personal planning app filled with notes, appointments, and upcoming work shifts. From what little Kanda could gleam, his week was more or less packed, with red text taking up almost the entirety of the schedule, leaving so little time left that Kanda had to wonder whether Link even had the chance to _sleep_.

He angled the phone towards Kanda, pointedly displaying his horrendously packed schedule. Kanda squinted at it, scowling when he spotted Allen's name somewhere among the endless tasks. He almost demanded to know what the hell Link thought he was doing with Allen, but it was ultimately none of his business, no matter how much he wished it was.

He scrolled through until Thursday, opening the date itself until he found a likely hour.

"Would this work fine?" Link asked, showing Kanda the time slot provided. Kanda thought he didn't have much of an option to refuse.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Pencil us in for an hour."

"...Right. Do you know where we're going or any other specifics? Is it formal? Well, given that I'm meeting your father, I suppose I should dress the part of a... nervous boyfriend."

Link said the last part with such distaste it was almost offensive.

"Dress however the fuck you want," Kanda spat, texting Tiedoll nothing but the date and time. Within seconds Tiedoll replied with more gross faces and a truly excessive amount of hearts. Kanda was never introducing another boyfriend in his  _life_ if this was how Tiedoll would react every time.

Kanda's phone vibrated several more times with another onslaught of messages from a clearly overexcited Tiedoll. Kanda muted his phone and shoved it grumpily into his pocket, knowing he'd have to deal with it later.

"Shouldn't you answer those?" Link asked, as if expecting Kanda to whip his phone and immediately start answered each and every one of Tiedoll's inane messages.

Instead Kanda rolled his eyes, aggressively slouching into his couch.

"Trust me, it's better not to engage him," Kanda said darkly. "You'll see."

Link frowned, looking somewhat put off.

"You should show more appreciation for your family. They're obviously happy for you."

“Obnoxiouslyhappy," Kanda bit back. Then, he paused, eyeing Link's expression warily. His frown didn't fade. Instead, it seemed to deepen, settling into an expression somewhere between displeasure and discomfort. Well, Kanda could hardly blame him for that —he'd be pissed too if he was being forced through a meet-and-greet with the world's most dysfunctional clingy family. Then again, he supposed it was always possible that Link's parents could be just as bad. He didn't know jack shit about Link's personal life.

"What about you?" Kanda prompted, addressing Link now with a look of narrow suspicion. "Any family you're gonna drag me out to meet?"

Link pulled up short, shoulders stiffening. His eyes dropped to his phone, aimlessly scrolling down his planner. "No. No one you need to worry about."

Kanda squinted, looked Link up and down, and then, because he'd never known tact since the day he was born, demanded, "Let me guess. You're a foster brat, aren't you?"

That of everything wrenched a scowl from Link, and though he still didn't look up at Kanda it was very nearly impressive how hard he attempted to glare holes into his phone. "Yes, I don't have any parents to incessantly text me like yours."

Kanda shook his head mildly, recognizing he'd stepped on a landmine but not feeling much sympathy or regret over it. "Just the one," he corrected. "Thank God, I don't know what I'd do with  _two_ of them."

"You truly don't care," Link said, voice tinged with something like awe, but it was dripping with condescension. "About missing your birth parents."

"Why should I?" Kanda demanded. "They aren't here, boo-hoo. Who gives a fuck? Whining won't bring them back, and frankly I don't give a shit if they're actually alive and around. It makes no damned difference."

Link looked down at his thumbs, meeting tentatively over the now black screen of his phone. "I suppose it doesn't really make a difference."

It was wistful and sad and yearning, and Kanda was not at all there to comfort some sad little boy. "No parents means I don't have to meet them."

As if shaking off his thoughts physically, Link twisted to face Kanda, face cool and set in that impenetrable blank expression. "Yes, well, now that we've established neither of us having biological parents in our upbringing, maybe we should move on to other pertinent aspects of our lives."

Kanda sighed, resigned. "Like what?"

"Interests. Hobbies. Occupation. Getting to know each other."

"I don't  _want_ to know anything about you," Kanda said.

"What you  _want_ means very, very little in this situation."

"So I've noticed," Kanda said. He thought of the way Link tasted, the way his mouth had been hot and warm against Kanda's, and the way he felt nothing like what he thought Allen would be like writhing softly in his arms. It was like nothing Kanda had ever wanted — or thought he'd wanted, at the very least.

"Whatever. Fine. Tell me about yourself."

 


	3. Chapter 3

Wednesday afternoon found Link heading downstairs from his work, preparing for his lunch break. He felt simultaneously excited and nervous, tugging at his sleeves, removing and replacing his cufflinks, and then sharply shaking his hands, physically dispelling the temptation to fidget.

He'd spent most of his lunch breaks with Allen before, there was no sense in suddenly being nervous over one now.

Well.  _Mostly_ no sense, as it was. After all, this was going to be his first time alone with Allen since he'd started... dating Kanda. 

Link still stumbled over the words. They felt unnatural and entirely unlikely, but there they were _boyfriends_. He was even meeting Kanda's father tomorrow evening. Reality was slowly encroaching upon Link.

Link nodded at the receptionist, giving her a quick flash of his employee pass for clearance. He pushing through the tall, double doors of the justice building, and went down the front steps at a brisk pace, briefly shielding his eyes from the glare of the summer sun. His work as a paralegal kept him almost frantically busy during the week (and occasionally, when a case demanded it, on weekends).

Leverrier's firm, while highly prestigious, was comprised of a fairly small staff, leaving Link responsible for mounds of extra work that would, in other firms, be thoughtlessly handed off to a legal secretary or another. Not that Link really minded. He took a fierce pride in being indispensable to his firm, and he strove to win the respect of the senior lawyers — even if it meant working himself to the bone. Which he did, more often than not.

Link's hour-long lunch breaks with Allen were a temporary relief from the non-stop stresses of the work day, and he relished them as such.

Their usual haunt was just down the road, somewhere between Link and Allen's respective workplaces. Convenient and cheap enough to justify meeting there at least once a week, if not more. In fact, Link spent his lunches with Allen more often than not, but he'd put off this particular routine until today, dreading the inevitable conversation.

He neared the restaurant far sooner than he was prepared for, rounding the corner to the back patio. The outdoor seating was shrouded in greenery and above were crisscrossing wooden beams where foliage grew freely, stray vines dipping down as they pleased. Not only was the shade provided lovely, but the sheer amount of plants created the sense of privacy. Given the hot summer months, less people were inclined to sit out there as well, so Link and Allen tended to find themselves alone for the duration of their lunch, interrupted occasionally only by their server. 

And there, sitting as if in his own cool bubble, was Allen.

It was as if the unbearable summer sun didn't touch him, hair teased by a light breeze and legs crossed at the ankles as he poured over a menu, the greenery over the outdoor table canting a refreshing and much desired shade over their seats.

Seemingly attuned to Link's steps, Allen looked up at Link's approach, gifting him a wide bright smile. 

Link's steps faltered, just slightly, not even a hitch in his pace, but enough that Link himself felt self-aware. Pretending to watch his path through the winding tables, Link glanced away briefly, hot shame flushing over him as he recalled, in vivid detail, the taste of his ostensible betrayal.

He pulled back the chair at Allen's table, skittering over its heated surface. The angle of the sun left Allen in plenty of shade but Link's back more or less bared to it. 

"Link!" Allen said. Link returned his smile, somewhat awkwardly, as he sidled into his seat opposite Allen. A little furrow wrote its way between Allen's brows, the line of his mouth dropping into something soft, contemplative. "You look tired. Leverrier still cracking the whip?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Link said shortly, trying to get a handle on his own nerves and doing a  _miserably_ poor job of it. "You needn't concern yourself. Really."

"If you say so," Allen said. Then, after a brief but thoughtful pause, "I suppose you do have Kanda looking after you now, right?"

So they were getting into it straight away. Link was almost impressed. Allen's smile didn't even flinch, not for a second.

"You know," Allen said, placing his menu aside and resting his elbows on the table, fingers interlocking so he could rest his chin on them. "I'd like to hear about it! I mean, you hid it very well for quite a while."

Link glanced down at his own menu, so far neglected. With as often as they'd been at the same restaurant, Link knew it by heart, but he still feigned vague interest if only to give him more time to formulate a response.

He felt Allen's burning gaze leave him and heard the approach of their waiter. They gave their orders and he departed quickly, regulars as they were. Normally, Allen was inclined to chat up their server of the day, but something in his faux smile must've shown.

"Oh, well. You know," Link hedged. He felt like an absolute wreck, nerves, guilt, and adoring  _butterflies_ crowding in his stomach to create one horrific cesspool of anxious emotion. "Kanda is just so... Kanda."

"That he is," Allen said, that strange smile returning in full force. "And him being the way he is, I'm still curious over how this all happened. I mean, Kanda just isn't the type to beat around the bush, you know?"

 _You really don't,_  Link thought, wrapping his hands around the edge of the table. "He's very straightforward."

"So," Allen surmised. Though his expression was near impossible to read, his hands did seem to curl a little tighter, knuckles practically white against the edge of the table. "He really did just... come out and kiss you, huh?"

His words were punctuated by a sharp, brittle laugh.

"Normally," Allen continued, tapping his fingers in a little staccato rhythm, "people are excited to share how they got together, when, all of that. You two seem a little reluctant."

"We're both rather private people. Sharing such an intimate... moment isn't in our nature."

"Posting on Instagram sure is, though."

"It was just a picture of us holding hands! I wouldn't post anything of us doing more than that," Link said, instinctively running to the defensive, eyes darting away guiltily.

"Just how much _more of that_  has there been?"

"What?"

The waiter returned with Link's drink and a complimentary basket of garlic bread. The moment he set it on the table Allen snatched one viciously, chewing on it with a single minded focus. Link nervously sipped at his drink, tasting nothing.

As soon as the waiter left, Link cleared his throat and tried again. "What, exactly, are you asking to know?"

Allen had barely shoved the last of the breadstick in his mouth when he grabbed another to chew, clearly not intending to continue his conversational thread. They fell into an uneasy silence. Normally, they continuously talked about everything and nothing, conversation light and easy, and Link had always looked forward to their lunches. Something was obviously bothering Allen, and Link didn't dare to hope too much that it was jealousy over his new found relationship. 

It was obvious, though, that it  _was_  throwing him off. Link supposed that counted as some form of success.

Floundering slightly, Link just spoke whatever first came to mind. "Of course, it's only been a few weeks, but they've been—" _Say something romantic!_  "—so much more than I ever imagined. It's huge, really. Almost more than I can take."

Allen promptly choked on his fifth breadstick, coughing harshly to clear his throat and then desperately drinking his water. He looked at Link incredulously. When he spoke his voice croaked a little around the words.  _"What?"_

Link ran over his words in his mind, wondering what was confusing Allen. Frowning but continuing nonetheless, Link said, "There really isn't enough time for us to meet, what with both our jobs and other obligations."

"I bet you wish you could spend your lunch breaks with  _him,_  huh?"

"Of course not," Link answered immediately, instinctively,  _stupidly_. He cringed internally, mentally backpedaling as he remembered he wasn't supposed to be denying his affections for Kanda, let alone reassuring Allen. "I mean," he continued, putting up a queasy smile in the face of Allen's confusion, "I don't have to see him during the day, really. After all, Kanda has me in the evenings."

This was an outright lie, but a plausible one. Given both their schedules, it made sense that Link and Kanda would only really have the opportunity to see one another at night.

Allen tore another breadstick in half, finishing the basket off. "So you're seeing him tonight, then?"

"Yes," Link said without thinking, even though the answer was no. "Yes, we've already made plans."

 

* * *

 

Link showed up unannounced.

Kanda crossed his arms, unimpressed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Selling the lie," Link said bluntly, peering around the doorframe. He was still dressed for work but had a small duffel bag hanging by a strap from one shoulder. "We're dating — isn't it expected we'll spend... nights together?"

Kanda stared at Link, weighing the value of spending another evening with him and of convincing everyone of this farce. Scowling, Kanda stepped back and allowed Link in, closing the door a tad too hard behind him.

The way Link stood awkwardly in his foyer reminded Kanda of that first morning when they woke up together. It reinforced the image that Link didn't belong in Kanda's home, or in Kanda's life period.

"I hope you didn't come here expecting to fucking eat. I've already eaten and I'm not cooking again for you."

Link sniffed, turning to regard Kanda impassively. "I had dinner before coming here. I'll do my best not to impose more than I already have."

Kanda hunched his shoulders, glancing down the hallway where he'd been preparing to go to bed. His day had been long and Kanda had long since been ready to go to sleep. He forcibly held back a yawn, eyeing the bags under Link's own eyes. Kanda had been right — Link's schedule was being hell on him. "Well, you can have the... couch or something, I don't give a shit. Just don't bother me."

Link adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, eyes flashing to the couch and back to Kanda, looking distinctly uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed. "I have a proposition for you."

Kanda stopped short, jerking to focus on Link entirely in disbelief. "Yeah,  _no._  You're the last person on Earth I want to be propositioned by."

Link barreled on, ignoring Kanda's belligerence. "It's been brought to my attention that posting on Instagram is more effective than I thought, so I wanted to suggest we endeavor to post more often."

"Who the fuck uses 'endeavor' in casual conversation?" Kanda said loudly. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the advance onset of a pounding headache. "No, never mind — just tell me what you want in ten words or less."

"I want you to get into bed with me," Link said, blunt. Kanda froze.

"Fucking excuse me?"

Link lifted an eyebrow, expression caught somewhere between exasperation and  _insufferable_ smugness. "I'd elaborate, but it  _may_ take more than ten words."

"Little shit," Kanda snapped, rounding away to gather as much patience as he could before turning on his heel to face Link with a vicious scowl. "What exactly are you fucking planning?"

Link breathed in deeply, as if Kanda was trying  _his_ patience, and met Kanda's glare straight on. "Instagram. Posting there works to sell this relationship. Generally, people like to show off their significant other and frequently post pictures of them together on social media. A few pictures here and there will broadcast our relationship to everyone — including your... romantic interest. So I want you to get into bed with me."

"Get into bed," Kanda said slowly, "and do what?"

"Take pictures," Link replied plainly. Kanda's brows lifted.

"...what  _kind_ of pictures?"

Link looked down at his shoes, for once embarrassed by his words. "Just being together. Lying down. I have a general enough idea for it, but I'm not an exhibitionist like some."

Kanda scowled at the jab clearly aimed at him, but ignored it, considering Link's words. Turning them over, he shrugged. "Fine. Let's go then."

"Just like that?" Link asked, aghast.

"Yeah, just like fucking that," Kanda snapped, turning to head down the hall. "The sooner we do this, the sooner it's over."

It took a moment, but sure enough Kanda heard the muted steps of Link following him.

Going down the hall of his home with Link right behind him felt weird. Not even just Link, but having  _anyone_ follow him into his bedroom. Kanda didn't entertain guests and while Lenalee and others invited themselves over frequently, they never went to his room. In fact, Link would be the only one who'd seen the inside of it. Who'd  _already_ seen the inside of it.

It didn't mean shit in the end, Kanda thought fiercely. He pushed open his bedroom door, stalking in and automatically reaching up to untie his hair. He stalled when Link followed him and bumped into him, forcing Kanda a few feet further in.

"Oh," Link said, hesitating, and Kanda dropped his hands.

What Kanda hated most of all was that he felt  _awkward._  None of this felt natural or normal or desirable or anything at all.

In the face of his discomfort, Kanda defaulted to hostility, facing Link and looking him over critically. Nothing about him was like Allen, not a single damn thing. "Well?"

"Well what?" Link asked quietly, eyes locked on Kanda's bed.

Kanda rolled his eyes. "Well, how do you fucking want to do this? I don't keep up with this kind of shit. What do you want me to do?"

"What do I want you—" Link began, voice higher than normal. He coughed once, hands nervously adjusting his bag again. Kanda waited impatiently as he gathered himself, thinking Link was nervous but deciding he didn't care if he was. "Well, if I'm supposed to be staying the night with you, I suppose we should dress the part."

Kanda glanced down at his clothes, still dressed for the day. Right. He turned to his dresser to grab his night clothes when Link made a strange strangled noise. Standing straight with clothes in hand, Kanda looked at Link, raising a brow.

Link gestured at Kanda up and down, opened his mouth, and closed it, fighting with himself on something.

Uncaring and impatient, Kanda continue, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it aside. He reached down to remove his socks and then undid his belt, and by then Link had found his voice.

"What are you doing?" Link demanded, incensed and pitched too high.

"Changing," Kanda said, like he thought Link was stupid. Then, as an afterthought, "You brought your own, right?"

"Of course I did," Link said, hands falling lax on his bag to grasp the zipper. He faltered, clearly unnerved. "I just expected..."

"You wanted to do this," Kanda said, "so get the fuck on with it. Don't chicken out now."

"Fine," Link said stiffly, unzipping his bag. The metal tug of it broke the silence between them and Kanda turned back to his clothes, dropping his pants.

Link cleared his throat as Kanda stepped out of his pants, finally reaching for the dark gray sweatpants he normally wore to sleep. He seemed to be tripping over his tongue, start-stopping on the words he couldn't quite say. He'd gone bright red in the face, and seemed to be looking just about everywhere but Kanda, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. A situation, Kanda reminded himself, that Link had suggested in the first place. Kanda had the impression Link wanted something from him, but unless he could spit it out, than Kanda wasn't going to indulge him.

Dressed, he turned to face Link and found him unbuttoning his shirt, red even in his ears. Smirking, Kanda crossed his arms and waited, and under his staring Link grew even more flustered.

"What," Kanda sneered, "you can watch me undress but I can't watch you?"

Link positively  _bristled_.

"I was  _not_ watching you undress!"

"You don't need to deny it. I know I'm hot."

Link bit his lip and glanced away pointedly, nimble fingers still working down his shirt to undo each button.

"In case I haven't already made it clear, you're  _far_ from my type," Link said contritely, pursing his lips as he thumbed the last button free. His shirt hung off of him, loose and open — an almost refreshingly relaxed look on someone who was typically the picture of upright formality.

"And you're still getting into bed with me?" Kanda rolled his eyes. "Talk about easy."

Link yanked his shirt off of his shoulders in one rough motion, his aggravation clear even in his silence.

Kanda waited, and then realized the return jab he expected wasn't coming. Link wasn't argumentative or aggressive like Allen — friendly banter was just not a thing.

Link, Kanda was surprised to see, was actually fairly well-built. He was leaner than Kanda, but still evidently worked out often. When Link bent down to remove his pants, Kanda found his back spotless. It made the tattoo on his right hand stand out even more. They both only had one.

For a paper-pusher, Link had a nice ass body.

"You don't," Link started, speaking through gritted teeth, "have to make it so obvious."

"Whatever," Kanda scoffed, walking away to sit on his bed. He leaned back on his arms, unabashedly watching Link primly fold his shirt and pants. Link stood straight, side-eyeing Kanda with his lashes lowered, but eventually looked away when Kanda turned it into a contest. He finished dressing, painstakingly slow and awkward.

Link reached back to grasp at his hair, stretching the fabric of white tank top over his chest as he quickly undid his braid, snapping the band around his wrist. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times, shaking it loose. Done, Link plucked his phone from where it sat on top his folded clothes.

Reminded of his own, Kanda leaned forward to untie his hair, rubbing briefly at his head to ease the strain. 

Realizing there was nothing more they could do to deliberate, they stood and stared at each other for a long moment, Link still red in the ears, Kanda feeling more awkward than ever before.

"So. I suppose we should..."

Link gestured towards the bed vaguely. Kanda folded his arms.

"Right."

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Kanda said, scooting back to sit in the middle of the bed. "Just. Just hurry the fuck up."

Link hesitated, moving to the foot of the bed. He pressed one knee down on it, stopping again. Aggravated, Kanda roughly grabbed Link's forearm, jerking him forwards and forcing Link onto the bed at last. Link fell with a quiet startled sound, exhaling sharply where he landed on his chest. Kanda glared down at him, arching a brow.

"There, you're on the bed. Now, how do you want it?"

Link propped himself up to rest on his forearms, glaring at Kanda through the indelible heat of his blush.

"That was unnecessary," Link said, lifting himself up so he can kneel. Kanda rolled his eyes, leaning back on his arms again to regard Link lazily. Leaning back like this, with Link on his knees had Link's face above his for once. Link closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened them, any sign of hesitation or embarrassment was gone, replaced by a level gaze and a calm facade.

"Lay back," Link said. "I have a few examples saved, so choose whichever you like most and we'll use it." He thumbed through apps on his phone and then handed it to Kanda. It was open to a folder on his gallery, displaying thumbnails of a handful of photos.

Kanda flicked though, simultaneously curious and repulsed. They were disgustingly intimate, couples smiling hugely while curled around each other, sheets bunched around them, arms around each other, picture perfect. Kanda hated each one. His skin crawled at the very thought of attempting such a display of complete, saccharine intimacy with Link, even if it was all just for show.

"I'm not smiling," Kanda said firmly, swiping past image after image of doting anonymous couples.

Kanda's eyes sought out the least intimate of the bunch, landing on a photo that seemed relatively tame. He selected it by default, expanding the image and handing the device back to Link as if it burned him.

"You want  _this_ one?" Link asked.

Kanda shrugged, stretching his left arm out wordlessly. Link shifted to sit properly, twisting around so his back faced the headboard. He straightened his legs and stiffly lay back. He was too far up though and ended up resting his shoulders on Kanda's arm.

"Scoot  _down,"_  Kanda hissed, and Link colored slightly, complying and shifting down until his neck rested comfortably on Kanda's bicep. Kanda huffed, using his left hand to shove Link's head on his shoulder. "Stop being so damned awkward." He adjusted his hand into the pose, dipping his fingers into Link's hair over the crown of his head.

This, Kanda realized, was far more intimate than he thought. Link lined up nicely against him, sides pressed snugly together. Kanda could smell Link's shampoo, crisp and clean, and above it all his cologne, much different than what Kanda preferred but nice enough that Kanda found himself breathing in deeply, savoring it.

They were, for all intents and purposes, cuddling. The fact should've been horrifying on principle, but all the same, Kanda couldn't call it entirely unpleasant. Link was warm, and the slide of his cotton tank against Kanda's bare chest was gentle, comfortable. Kanda flexed slightly, experimentally, and after a moment's hesitation, Link shifted a little closer. Close enough that their foreheads nearly brushed. 

They could've kissed.

They weren't going to kiss.

"Alright, just give me a moment," Link said. He lifted his phone up, craning his neck as he thumbed the photo application open. Kanda blinked upwards and was instantly assaulted by the sight of his own face staring down at them from Link's front-facing camera. The sight was... jarring. Link's body pressed flush against Kanda. Kanda's arm curled beneath him, lazily possessive.

They really did look like a couple, and though Kanda would never admit it, they looked  _good_ together.

Kanda twisted his head to press his lips to the side of Link's head; picture perfect. He could feel Link shiver, a subtle vibration that travelled through his body to Kanda's — or was it a shudder of disgust?

Link took a snap, and then another. He writhed, just slightly, against Kanda, determined to get as much of the both of them in the frame as possible. In the process, he pressed his head into the junction between Kanda's shoulder and chest; idly, Kanda wondered if the position was even comfortable for Link. He didn't consider himself to be  _soft_ by any means. Snap. Snap. Link still had the generic shutter sound enabled on his phone, and its periodic bursts punctuated the heavy silence with the force and shock of gunshots.

Link took long enough that Kanda began to grow slightly uncomfortable, his lips dry. He moved them slightly, shifting just a bit, and Link stilled immediately.

"I think," Link said, clearing his throat, "we have enough." 

Kanda dropped his hand away, but Link didn't move, instead scrolling through all the photos right then and there. Kanda let him, more curious about the images and what Link was going to do with them then in shoving Link off.

Kanda saw now that Link had changed the angle subtly each time, the one Link finally decided on displayed both Kanda's jawline and kiss, as well as Link's face looking up at him. Not a bad picture, all in all.

Settled, Link opened up Instagram. He pulled the photo up and Kanda watched as Link began to edit it, curious in something he'd personally never actually seen nor done. Link didn't change too much, aside from throwing a filter on and zooming in just a tad, shifting the focus to Kanda's kiss. 

"Is that fine?" Link asked, voice oddly subdued.

"Yeah," Kanda said, watching strands of Link's blond hair shift as he spoke. Link was resting even more firmly against Kanda, distracted from holding himself stiff by his phone so that he lay fully curved into Kanda's half-hearted embrace.

"Alright," Link said, typing out a caption before posting it.

They lay there quietly, staring at Link's phone. He scrolled lazily through his feed, liking photos occasionally. Kanda watched as Tewaku, Lenalee, and others he didn't recognize passed under Link's thumb, along with a truly copious amount of food pictures.

In the bottom right corner a notification popped up that Link immediately opened.

lenalady ♥ your post

"Lenalee's seen it," Link mumbled, voice heavy with sleep.

If Lenalee liked the photo she would surely tell Allen and Lavi, Kanda thought, closing his eyes and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. Komui as well. Everyone she knew, really. Link was right, posting on Instagram  _was_ more effective than they'd originally thought.

Link's phone vibrated and a new text message appeared at the top. Careless of Kanda's obvious gaze, Link thumbed it open.

[Tokusa, 9:23 PM]: IS THAT A SHIRTLESS KANDA YUU I SEE

[Tokusa, 9:24 PM]: BOOOIIII NO WONDER U AIN'T AT HOME.... GET SOME ASS MY SWEET CHILD!!!!!!

"Oh, God," Link moaned, and Kanda could imagine his horrified blush. "I... I'm sorry about my roommate. He doesn't ever _think."_

"I've been putting up with Lavi for the past ten years," Kanda said. "Trust me, I get it."

Link received more notifications for Instagram that he opened up, exploring the responses and comments. Kanda idly watched, reading the various 'cute!' and 'you two look so good together's. Deciding to wait until Allen popped up on the feed, Kanda closed his eyes, nestling against Link's hair and sighing.

Like this, he could hear and feel Link's quiet breaths, the warmth of him gently lulling, pulling Kanda into a deep sense of relaxation and ease. Link was very quiet, and he dimmed his phone screen, easing the bright light off their faces.

Kanda quietly fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Link woke up feeling more well-rested than he had in what seemed like years. He was so content that it felt like a crime to actually stay awake. He curled in, reaching for that familiar warmth surrounding him, sighing.

The warmth moved, shifting against him, and Link abruptly realized he wasn't alone.

Opening his eyes, he found Kanda watching him, gaze alert and wide awake. His horror was slow in coming as Link registered their legs intertwined and Link's arms around Kanda's chest, his head resting comfortably there as if he had every right to.

His body was slow in actually listening to Link's mind, too, because instead of completely pulling away and stumbling off the bed he nestled closer, hand pressing over Kanda's chest. Kanda was shirtless and all Link could feel was the smooth slide of skin on skin.

As Link's mind began to unfog and come back to itself, it became increasingly clear that he couldn't stay like this, curled up against Kanda. In fact, with every passing second, the thought intensified in urgency until it reached the threshold of a demand.

Slowly, Link looked up to focus his gaze on Kanda's face. Kanda was very much awake, and he didn't seem particularly happy about it. His eyes, bright and alert, were wide with an alarm and a discomfort that mirrored Link's own.

Link felt himself colouring with the hazy beginnings of a blush, desperately combing through potential apologies or defenses and coming up empty.

What an absolute embarrassment.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep in Kanda's bed.  Then again, lately, Link found himself doing a lot of things he'd really never intended.

Kanda cleared his throat, not quite meeting Link's eyes — his stare seemed to have determinedly fixed itself somewhere above Link's head, maybe boring into the wall at the far side of the room.

"Let go already."

"Hah," Link said, voice a little raw, soft and heavy with sleep. "Right. Of course."

Though his body protested the loss of Kanda's warmth, Link's mind propped himself up and rolled away from Kanda, the mattress shifting beneath him as he ambled back against the sheets.

Kanda wasted no time in sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed, aggressive in his movements. He was probably angry, Link reflected. Link still wasn't sure what exactly kept Kanda busy, but he seemed to have purposes and goals. Sleeping in with Link tucked beside him wasn't conducive to that or even desirable. Link shifted into a back-bending stretch, easing out the sleepy weariness there.

Link bit back a yawn, repressing the urge to rub at his eyes as he looked around for his phone. Link noted with some irony that it was very similar to the morning they first woke up together.

He found his phone tucked in the folds of Kanda's blanket, obviously having slid off him when Link fell heavily asleep at some point. He fished it out, unlocking it to find the battery mostly gone and a mass of notifications.

Assaulted with a vague sense of déjà vu, Link scrolled through them, filtering out the important emails, schedule notices, and texts.

"Hey."

Startled, Link looked up and found Kanda scowling at the end of his bed, looking at Link pointedly.

"Get the fuck off my bed."

"Oh," Link murmured, mortification slow in coming. He shifted to the edge and stood, and the moment he was off Kanda aggressively made his bed, snapping the sheets straight and arranging his pillows. Link felt offended, but couldn't pinpoint exactly why, so he stood off to the side. Watching the smooth glide of Kanda's hands as he pressed the sheets neat, Link remembered the photo from last night.

He pulled the post open now, grimacing at the sheer number of likes and comments on it. Link normally only posted the occasional image of his baking, or of his work breaks, a few selfies Allen had taken while Link wasn't looking. This image of him and Kanda was not only entirely new and strange but looked as if it belonged on someone else's profile entirely.

Despite the discomfort he felt, his satisfaction was overwhelming as he saw the evidence of a plan carried to fruition. Allen's name was there again, almost lost in the mass of likes. There was also a comment.

 **dangoemojis**   _you said you were going over tonight, but I didn't realize it meant you were staying_

At the sight of Allen's comment, Link's stomach twisted into knots, mixed guilt and pleasure at war inside of him. While he still wasn't quite certain that Allen's behavior was jealous, it certainly seemed bitterer than warranted. That... was an encouraging result, wasn't it? It was proof that Allen  _cared_ , at least, on some level.

"Would you like to see?" Link asked, holding his phone out. Kanda looked up, face surprisingly blank for once. He focused on the phone's screen, eyes scanning the image of the tiny text beneath it. Then he turned his dismissively, shaking it minutely.

Link held it a moment longer before bringing it back, eyes glancing to and away from the image. He wanted to delete it. Somehow, baring this piece of themselves felt invasive in the cool light of morning.

The point, however, was to leave it there. So he closed the app and pulled up his planner, grimacing as he scrolled through to find today's events.

"Kanda," Link said, watching as Kanda jerked to a stop, leveling a look over his shoulder at Link. Link was so accustomed to Kanda's typical hostile expressions that to see his blank face was startling, still. "We're meeting with your father today. Shouldn't we discuss our plans for this?"

"Discuss what?" Kanda asked sarcastically. "Trust me, this is the last person who's gonna suspect us. He's literally guaranteed to love you."

"Really?" Link said, bringing his phone close to his chest.

"Yes. Don't take it personally."

"Oh," Link said, "Of course. I wouldn't assume otherwise, especially given that none of this will last. I pity your father, being led around."

Link turned on his heel then, heading for Kanda's bathroom to change and wash up. He had no intentions to linger longer than he already had.

 

* * *

 

The sun had not quite set yet when Kanda and Link arrived at Tiedoll's front door. Kanda pocketed the keys to his car, taking the moment to look over at Link beside him. Next to Kanda's casual shirt and jeans, Link's casual-formal wear was far over-dressed in comparison.

He looked good, really, neat and crisp and oh-so presentable in his white dress shirt and black blazer. Handsome, really. Distractingly. Agitatingly. Kanda didn't particularly want to see Link looking good.

He hadn't wanted to see it in the morning, and he didn't want to see it now.

"Stop fidgeting," Kanda said, more sharply than he knew Link really deserved. Still, he didn't feel any compulsion to apologize, or even soften up.

"I am  _not_ fidgeting," Link returned with a scoff, a response that was equal parts reflexive and completely untrue. Regardless, his hands danced nervously around the small decorated box he held, balancing it in the palm of one of hand while the other arranged the ribbon _just so,_ flittering up to the collar buttons of his shirt and then smoothing imaginary wrinkles away, before shifting the box to that hand and repeating it all over again. Sitting in Link's lap on the drive over, the smell of cinnamon, apples, and crisp baked dough had permeated the entire car, enough so that Kanda wondered why he had even bothered with aftershave. Perhaps it wasn't as strong as Kanda thought though, since even now he could still smell the subtle hints of Link's cologne, sharp but understated. "I'm simply... nervous."

"It's just dinner," Kanda pointed out, rolling his eyes pointedly. "It's not like you're going to ask for my fucking hand in marriage."

Link pursed his lips, frowning uncertainly under the weight of Kanda's deadpan expression. Beneath the glossy light of the setting sun, it was difficult to discern whether he was blushing or not. Kanda bet he was, all the same. He was starting to get the idea that Link flustered shockingly easy.

"Regardless, I'd prefer to make a good impression."

"You'd have to actually  _try_ to make him hate you," Kanda said, reaching out to rap his knuckles sharply on the door. Link exhaled quietly, likely in an attempt to ease his nerves.

"Everyone judges," Link argued. His distress might've been funny if it didn't sound so genuine. "It's only natural."

"Oh, would you shut up? I'm  _not_ your therapist," Kanda bit back, pausing when he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. "Now get ready to smile,  _boyfriend_."

The door swung open, revealing a beaming Tiedoll. His hair was as wild as ever, and his round glasses seemed permanently smudged with fingerprints, but Tiedoll's smile was wide and warm, and he paused only to regard Kanda briefly before focusing on Link.

Link stiffened under Tiedoll's searching look, then before Kanda could noisily clear his throat or attempt to salvage the long pause, Link offered a polite smile, holding his hand out. 

"Good evening, sir," Link said, all sign of nerves and fidgeting gone, leaving behind a calm, collected air. "I'm Link, Kanda's boyfriend."

Kanda's brows rose minutely, impressed. It was the first time Link hadn't stumbled or hesitated over the words, delivering them with such quiet confidence that Kanda would've been inclined to believe him if he didn't know otherwise.

Kanda closed his eyes at the telltale hitch in Tiedoll's breathing, bracing himself for the inevitable.

"Oh," Tiedoll said, disgustingly drawn out and endeared before clearing his throat, clearly emotional over it all. Kanda felt the first twinge of guilt but he fiercely shoved it down, knowing it was too late for doubts. Kanda shifted aside, watching them with an intensity that was probably uncalled for, but felt compelled to do nonetheless.

Tiedoll stared down at Link's hand, gaze fixed upon the curve of Link's outstretched palm with a soft adoration that was downright disturbing. Still, Link stared back, unafraid, meeting his eyes with steady determination. Tiedoll blinked, once. Link blinked back.

Then, without a moment's hesitation, Tiedoll surged forwards and wrapped Link into a hug that was really more of a  _tackle_.

"Sir—!" Link jerked his hands up, desperately balancing the boxed dessert in the air as his wide eyes shot to Kanda's.

"And there it is," Kanda said, completely monotone, plucking the dessert from Link's outstretched hands to hold safely.

After a back-breaking hug Tiedoll pulled Link away, holding him at his shoulders with a grip that looked painful. He studied Link up and down and then met Link's hesitant smile. Kanda watched in dismay as Tiedoll teared up, drawing Link back into hug. Link patted Tiedoll's back stiffly, eyes beseeching Kanda to do something.

"Enough already," Kanda finally said, grabbing Tiedoll's shoulder to encourage him away. "He's not going to disappear the moment you let go of him."

At that Tiedoll laughed, backing away at last, though he still didn't turn away from Link. He lifted his glasses to swipe at his eyes, chuckling all the while. "You're quite right, yes."

Link stood stock-still, arms hanging like dead-weight at his sides, as if he didn't know what to do with them now. Kanda thought he should grab Link's hand or something, but didn't feel quite the need to, especially in front of Tiedoll, who would probably demand pictures or something.

"This," Kanda began, using one hand to gesture towards Tiedoll and garnering Link's attention, "is my adoptive... guardian."

Tiedoll shot Kanda a fond look. "Yuu, why won't you call me your father? I've had you ever since you were this tall!" Tiedoll gestured somewhere around mid-thigh, wearing a wounded look.

"Don't start with that," Kanda snapped, mortified.

"A bit prickly at times, isn't he?" Tiedoll said, now addressing Link. His voice hadn't lost an ounce of its dreamy fondness. "But that's what makes him adorable, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh my fucking God,  _enough,"_  Kanda snapped, mortification encroaching on humiliation. Link nodded helplessly, apparently still somewhat traumatized by Tiedoll's initial displays of physical affection.

"I... ah, absolutely agree, sir."

Tiedoll beamed all the brighter. Kanda closed his eyes and prayed for death.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Tiedoll started, holding his hand out in a gesture Link eagerly returned, relieved. "You can call me Tiedoll. Enough of this 'sir'' business. After all, we're practically family now."

"Are we?" Link looked absolutely bewildered. Tiedoll nodded firmly, looking dangerously pleased with himself.

"Of course, Howard. If you're important to Yuu, then you're important to me."

" _Howard?_ " Link echoed, impossibly, impossibly lost. Kanda blanched for a split second, trying to remember who the fuck Howard was.

Tiedoll frowned, worried. "That is your name, right? I hope I didn't get it wrong."

"No," Link said, as if speaking from far away. "No, you're correct. However, I prefer to be called Link."

Tiedoll glanced between Link and Kanda, that ridiculous smile of his returning in full force. "You two really are made for each other, aren't you?"

"For fuck's sake, let's just go inside already," Kanda bit back, appalled by the mere suggestion.

"Agreed," Link said soberly, eyes flickering momentarily to the pastry in Kanda's hands. "The pie needs to be refrigerated."

_Real nice fuckin' priorities you got there, Howard._

"You bake?" Tiedoll inquired, leading the way inside. Kanda waited for Link to follow, closing the door behind them and watching Link's curious perusal over his home. It was a normal enough place, in Kanda's opinion, aside from the shit ton of art they had everywhere. Half of it was Tiedoll's personal design and the rest mere studies. More than all the art was an abundance of family photographs.

"Yes," Link said, voice finally returning to that bland polite tone he'd mastered. "I'm not particularly well-learned, though. It's something to do in my free time."

"I can't wait to try it after dinner," Tiedoll enthused, leading past the foyer, dining room, and towards the kitchen. "I made Yuu's favorite, since he rarely comes home. Are noodles fine?"

"Of course," Link said easily, eyes glued to every possible aspect of Kanda's house he could see. "Do you like art, sir?" Link bit his sentence off quickly, cutting the deference short.

Tiedoll shot Link a chiding look but let it go unremarked, gesturing for the pie from Kanda. Tiedoll placed it securely in the refrigerator and doddered over to the stove next to inspect the pots there. "Yes, it's actually my work as well, but as they say: if you love what you do, you'll never work a day in your life!" Tiedoll chuckled lightly, stirring the contents of a pot. "I tried getting the boys to paint, but none of them quite took to it."

"Boys?" Link easily encouraged. Kanda made his way to the island counter, resting his elbows on it and eyeing the basket of fruit there. "Kanda's brothers?"

"Daisya and Marie," Tiedoll supplied, turning and frowning at Kanda's steady contemplation. "You'll ruin your appetite, Yuu," Tiedoll scolded. Kanda dropped the apple, crossing his arms to rest on them instead. "Yuu's brothers — they're both older than him. Marie is home, upstairs I believe, and Daisya should be on his way.”

"Are they all...?"

"Adopted?" Tiedoll said, smiling lightly. "Yes, all of them. Marie was first, and then Daisya two years later. Yuu joined us three years after that, and ever since we've been together."

When Tiedoll turned back to the pot, Link said, "Raising three sons must have been hectic." Behind Tiedoll's back, Link pointedly glanced at Kanda. Kanda glared back, flipping him off.

"Sure, there were some hard times, but they were all very good boys. I couldn't have asked for more." Tiedoll gave Kanda a beaming smile, and Kanda scowled, ducking his head.

"But we're not here to talk about me, are we?" Tiedoll continued, turning to Link. "I want to know all about you two. Adorable as it is, little romance came as quite a shock, after all." Tiedoll's eyes wandered back over to Kanda, fixing him with a look that bordered between dreamy curiosity and genuine concern. "After all, I'd been under the impression that you liked that other one, you know—"

Kanda felt himself growing red in this face. Oh, no, no,  _fuck_ this.

 _"Nope,"_ he said instantly, not knowing what Tiedoll was about to say but certain they were all better off not hearing it. "Nope, no way, must be the dementia setting in."

"Oh," Tiedoll said. He frowned for a split second before conceding the point, satisfied enough with the current situation to leave it be. "Well, then, I'm just happy the two of you are together. There's nothing more precious or more beautiful than young love. Link, I must know — how did Yuu confess? He's so painfully shy about his emotions, especially when it comes to his  _affections_."

"I'm right here," Kanda grit out, feeling himself grow tense with outrage. "And what makes you think I confessed? Have you  _looked_ at him?"

"Oh, it was all very romantic," Link said flatly, ignoring Kanda's anger with a glacial indifference that was positively maddening. "Candles, music, promises of eternity. I do believe flowers were involved."

"Flowers?" Tiedoll repeated, looking positively enraptured. "Oh, that's beautiful! Yuu has always had a gift with plants. Did he arrange them himself?”

"Naturally," Link said, tone still dangerously crisp. "All long-stemmed roses."

"He blushed like a virgin," Kanda bit back, feeling vengeful. "Though he didn't look much like a virgin soon afterwards."

That slapped the pleasant act right off Link's face. He blushed all the way to his ears, cherry red with mortification as he stared at Kanda in disbelief. Completely in character, Tiedoll simply clasped his hands together and sighed as though Kanda had said something absolutely darling. Kanda fought down a self-satisfied smirk. There was something fantastically rewarding in being able to wipe away that condescending little expression.

Kanda could hear Marie's heavy tread approach, and he glanced up expectantly. He realized, belatedly, that he should've told Link Marie was blind, but figured Link would find out soon enough anyways.

Marie rounded the kitchen's entrance, face lax in a slight smile as he tilted his head, registering the smell of dinner and the presence of others.

"Marie," Kanda greeted, nodding even if Marie couldn't see.

"Kanda!" Marie said, eagerly stepping forward. He stopped a few feet short of Link, knowing something was there but unsure. "Tiedoll said you were coming with your boyfriend today?"

"Right here!" Tiedoll beamed, smiling wide enough Kanda thought his face would've cracked. He rounded Link up to present him to Marie, holding Link round the shoulders. "This here is Link, an absolute darling. He baked a pie for us!"

Marie held his hand out and Link grasped it firmly, frowning in minute confusion. "It's very nice to meet you, Link" Marie said, smiling. When Link opened his mouth but hesitated, Marie reached up, tapping the side of his forehead with his free hand. "I doubt Kanda might have mentioned it, but in case he hasn't, I am blind."

"Oh," Link said, shaking Marie's hand. "Kanda didn't mention it, no..."

"Don't mind it too much," Marie laughed, releasing Link's hand and directing his gaze towards Kanda. "We're all pleasantly surprised to find Kanda has a boyfriend."

"We started dating a few weeks ago," Link demurred, shuffling slightly.

"Yuu," Tiedoll said, turning the stove's burners off. "Be a doll and call Daisya for me? He was supposed to be here some time ago."

Rolling his eyes, Kanda dug his phone out to call just as the front door opened, Daisya eagerly yelling for Kanda and his mysterious boyfriend. Kanda groaned, already feeling the deep onset of aggravation.

"What great timing!" Tiedoll said. "Dinner's ready!"

Standing straight, Kanda took Link by the elbow, touch-light, and guided him to the dining room. He gestured for Link to sit and settled beside him, ignoring Tiedoll's blatant pleased staring and Marie's quiet smiles.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough, with Tiedoll getting to know Link and Daisya frequently teasing Kanda until Marie corralled him in. It was, all in all, a nice evening, one Kanda didn't actually end up hating. Link seemed to thrive under Tiedoll's constant attention and questions, not talking as animatedly as Allen might have in charmed company, but definitely more lighthearted than Link had ever acted around Kanda. 

He was still, in his own way, reserved and polite, tone always calm and measured, but he definitely talked more than Kanda had ever heard or allowed, really. It was... a nice change, and Tiedoll seemed delighted. It really was a shame that Tiedoll had to meet Link.

Link's apple pie was met with enthusiasm and vocal appreciation from everyone but Kanda, who found it too sweet. Link flushed just lightly, almost non-existent, but Kanda was slowly beginning to memorize Link's different expressions, much more varied than he had first assumed.

Tiedoll attempted to keep them for longer, but Kanda was at the end of his patience with Daisya's constant needling and Tiedoll's own over enthusiastic reaction to every little thing Kanda or Link did. He barely allowed them brief good-byes before tugging Link out of the house and down the flower-lined path to the driveway.

Link walked slowly, as if lost in his thoughts, and Kanda followed suit, calm now that he was outside. The warm night air pressed comfortably close and Tiedoll's impressive garden had night-blooming flowers that were just beginning to open up, petals washed pale by the moonlight.

Kanda was startled when Link suddenly spoke, turning to watch him as Link focused neither here nor there, gaze distant.

"Your father loves you a lot," Link said, voice taking on a low, decidedly faraway slant. 

There was something soft in Link's expression. Something that gave Kanda pause. It was the same unguarded expression he'd caught on Link's features that very morning, as Link's lashes first fluttered open, drowsy and lax and inexplicably beautiful as he stirred against Kanda's chest. In that moment, hair pooled around him like liquid gold in the morning light, the very sight of Link had sent an inexplicable buzz of curious energy jolting through Kanda's stomach. He felt that same jolt again now, more demanding, insisting Kanda get a little closer to inspect Link's expression of contemplation more thoroughly.

Kanda, never one to deny his instincts, leaned forwards, eyes tracking over Link's mouth, his brows, and his eyes as he spoke. Link's features were fine and sharp; not sweet and curved like Allen's were. But he wasn't bad to look at. Not at all. And that jolt. That sickly, compelling sensation. Whatever it was, it was potent, and it refused to be denied.

"I guess," Kanda said. He tore his eyes away hastily, before Link could catch him staring.

Kanda remembered that first judgement he'd made of Link — foster brat. No parents to blow up his phone with unsolicited affection, nobody to introduce a lover to. Distantly, Kanda thought back to the way Link had reacted to Tiedoll's embraces; dizzied, overwhelmed, alarmed. Like the entire concept of family was somehow totally alien to him.

Kanda wondered then, with a pang of quiet surprise, if Link was jealous. Jealous of what Kanda had.

"It's nice," Link said, all edges softened in the dusky moonlight. Eyes as gentle and as bright as fireflies. "You have a wonderful family."

"They're okay," Kanda admitted. "When they shut their damn mouths, at least."

"You make it harder on yourself, you know," Link told Kanda, now playfully informative. "You rise so quickly to teasing. It only encourages them. It's the exact same with Allen, too. The better your reaction, the further he'll try to push you."

Allen. Kanda ignored the twinge of stupid, silly affection the name sent fluttering through his stomach, throwing a veil over his emotions with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

"The beansprout's the absolute  _worst_ ," Kanda groused, and Link smiled; from him, this was as good as a laugh.

"He's certainly a handful when he wants to be."

Just then, eyes focused on the subtle quirk of his lips, Kanda started to think that he might like to put his hands on Link. He wasn't yet sure what he'd like to do with them, though.

Kanda met Link's eyes and held them, studying the pale lashes against chestnut eyes, the moonlight in his hair, the bow of his lips, the softness in Link's face as he teased Kanda. Kanda savored how Link looked when he smiled, the scent of blooming flowers and Link's cologne, still present but warm and heady now, carried on the breeze towards Kanda.

Glancing away, Kanda continued forward, passing Link and ignoring the sudden urge to touch him, then.

"It's getting late," Kanda said, voice gruff. "We should head back."

Link didn't say a word, mutely following Kanda to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Beautiful Art by Warie-Lym!!](http://warie-lym.tumblr.com/post/161529608687/they-really-did-look-like-a-couple-and-though)


	4. Chapter 4

Sometimes, when the days were especially hot, Kanda was tempted to buy a treadmill or pay a gym membership just to escape the unbearable heat. In the end, he thought of all the waiting for machines and of prices and of standing in a large room reeking of sweat and decided against it.

Allen was much less convinced, and he frequently reminded Kanda of the benefits of a gym membership, including the sauna room they could relax in afterwards. That, especially, was a temptation. The thought of sitting half-naked beside Allen in a hot room, skin shining and soft from steam, face and skin flushed— it was nearly enough to sway Kanda.

Ultimately, he hated the rest of the deal too much to give in for one single benefit, so despite the constant pleas from Allen they never changed routine, and still met up five times a week for a jog around a nearby park.

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, baking the pavement below and sending nearby cicadas into a frenzy. They hummed and hissed, providing an undercurrent to the rhythm of Kanda and Allen's feet hitting the asphalt; a sound that was not entirely unpleasant.

Running was simple. Easy. Allen made a good partner for it, too. Though his build was slight, Allen was quick and strong enough to keep up with Kanda's pace effortlessly, and these afternoon jogs were a good way of spending time with Allen in a fashion that didn't require too much conversation— Kanda had never really excelled at that, and he was feeling particularly keen to avoid it now. Link had told him about Allen's little interrogation, and Kanda sure as fuck didn't want to see the situation replicated.

Of course, the ideal solution would just be to avoid Allen altogether and cancel their run, but the idea didn't particularly appeal to Kanda. Because he fucking _liked_ seeing Allen. Tragically.

Panting slightly, Allen's mouth was inviting, pink and swollen, as if it had been made to be kissed. His hair, growing a little too long, was tied up in a messy ponytail with some wispy strands escaping, either to fall into his face or stick to the back of his neck. He looked good, but then again, he always looked good to Kanda.

"You know," Allen said, breath heavy. The second before his eyes cut to look at Kanda, he glanced away, focusing on the beaten path before them. "I wasn't sure if we were going to keep doing this. Together, I mean."

"Why wouldn't we?" Kanda frowned, eyes fixed on Allen, intent.

"Well," Allen said, looking away. "Link likes to work out, too. I just figured you two would want to be together as much as possible."

"Just because we're dating doesn't mean we're joined at the hip," Kanda pointed out reflexively, before he could consider the implications of what Allen was saying, really. He paused for a moment, the sound of his footsteps punctuating the silence. That was a jealousy thing, right? Right. "Actually, you know what? Maybe he would make a good running partner. He definitely wouldn't try to drag me out for ice cream after, thus _negating the entire goddamn purpose of the workout."_

"It's really hot out here," Allen said defensively, tugging at his collar. They were nearing the end of their jog, now, and Allen was coated in a thin layer of sweat. It really was hot out. "I guess Link wouldn't have as much time to go running, though. Right?"

He almost sounded hopeful. Kanda felt a tug of smug self-satisfaction curl low in his stomach.

"Maybe," he answered, short. Allen seemed genuinely stricken by this, a crease of worry appearing between his brows. Kanda's vicious pleasure melted away instantaneously, and was instead replaced by a pang of real guilt. He relented, eyes flickering back to the road, the dust gathering beneath their feet. "I mean, probably not. And anyways, this... doesn't have anything to do with him. So don't be stupid."

_This time is for us. You and me._

Slowly, Allen turned their jog into a walk, and they cooled off for a few minutes, forcing their breaths even as they approached the bench holding their bags and water. When they finally stopped Allen greedily drank his water and then dumped some of it over his head and neck, sighing in relief at the chill it gave. Kanda watched the water trail down his temples, his flushed cheeks, meeting at his neck to disappear under his shirt.

Allen collapsed with a groan on the bench and Kanda busied himself with his own water, ignoring the wet stretch of Allen's shirt across his chest as he threw his arms along the back of the bench, cooling off as much as impossible. Allen loved working out, but he had a filthy habit of smoking. He wasn't as bad as he could be, but nonetheless it was there. Allen actually made quite the effort not to smoke in front of them, for whatever reason, but Kanda had caught him numerous times walking inside with the sharp tinge of nicotine coating his skin. Despite the way Kanda had abhorred cigarettes and any type of dependence, love always turned fault into virtue. Just the passing scent had imprinted the very image of Allen in Kanda.

Allen tipped his head back, still pink-cheeked. Allen was always at higher risk of developing heat stroke than Kanda, especially in the summer. He took longer to actually cool down, and Kanda gave him this time as he stretched. It was a long moment before they finally wound down enough from their run to reasonably speak. When Kanda looked up he found Allen staring at him, unabashed.

"I heard you introduced Link to Tiedoll," he said. He pressed his cheek against his water bottle to cool down, expression thoughtful. "How did that go?"

"Fine," Kanda said tersely, before gesturing at Allen with his hand. "Come on, stretch."

Allen shrugged, rolling his shoulders and sitting length-wise along the bench, neatly doubling over to grasp his feet by the soles. He made it look so easy, it was almost aggravating to watch. Kanda counted the seconds and then molded his hand over Allen's lower back, forcing him lower. Allen complied with a soft huff, pushing it a few seconds longer before finally easing back up. Kanda's hand fell away and he stepped back so Allen could stand and ease into a full on stretch.

Kanda liked watching Allen stretch more than he'd care to admit. Allen wasn't built powerfully, no, but he was lean and limber, reaching further than Kanda possibly or willingly could. Allen finished and swung back up into a back-bending stretch, sighing in satisfaction. Looking away, Kanda grabbed their bags, and Allen easily fell into step with him as they made to leave.

"So that's it?" Allen asked, hand brushing Kanda's as he tugged his own bag free from his grip. "Link wasn't nervous, or Tiedoll wasn't embarrassing, or nothing?"

"Oh, they were both those things," Kanda snorted dismissively. "But it. Was. Fine. Nobody died, did they?"

"I saw the Instagram post," Allen said too quickly, moderating his next few words to be noticeably slower. "You don't even _use_ your Instagram."

Kanda didn't even know he had one. "Link likes to take pictures."

Allen sucked in a shaky breath that he let go in a laugh. "Yeah, I've noticed that. I thought you hated taking pictures?"

"I don't really give a shit about them," Kanda said, frowning. "What the fuck do you care?"

"I _don't_ care," Allen answered immediately, stubbornly. Then, his expression softened unexpectedly; he seemed conflicted. At war with himself. "It... was a cute picture. That's all I was going to say. Okay?"

"Oh," Kanda said. He shifted uncomfortably. All of a sudden, he felt kind of stupid. He hated feeling stupid. He toyed with the strap of his bag, obstinately avoiding Allen's wide-eyed, open stare. "Huh."

Kanda chanced a glance back at Allen, who was still standing there with his bag, frozen but caught in an expression that was almost painfully wistful. It was almost too much for Kanda to bear, especially when kissing it right off his face wasn't an option.

And Kanda did want to kiss Allen. He wanted to kiss Allen, and he wanted to take him by his waist, his hips, ground him there in reality, so that Allen would never look away from Kanda again. Kanda wouldn't give up his runs with Allen for anything, but sometimes he walked away from them almost painfully hard, the sound of Allen's breath, the image of his flushed face, the almost palpable heat that combined between the two of them under the summer sun staying with him for hours afterwards.

Allen spoke up suddenly, startling Kanda from his thoughts, and he hastily tore his gaze away, hoping none of it had shown on his face. "Link seemed pretty happy," Allen said, not as enthusiastically as before, but tone level and bland. "Actually, I think that was the most I've ever heard him talk about romance or... _relationships_ of any kind. He's usually so private about that stuff, you know?"

"About _what?"_ Kanda jerked to face Allen again in disbelief.

"You know," Allen said meaningfully. "Sex."

"Uh, right," Kanda agreed, still shocked. What the fuck was Link saying to everyone? Kanda had never even considered screwing Link, and now that the image was there he wasn't even sure how to feel about it. _Hell no,_ was his first vague thought, but then he stopped to actually think it over. Scowling, Kanda dismissed the thoughts, focusing on Allen and his response.

His face was almost impressively neutral, aside from the blush still painted over his cheeks. Kanda couldn't tell if it was there from the sun, their run, or embarrassment over even asking Kanda these questions, though Kanda had never witnessed Allen being ashamed about sex or anything pertaining to it. He was rather shameless, actually.

"And what, exactly, did Link have to say about our sex life?"

"Nothing much, I swear," Allen hurried to respond, raising both palms in a placating gesture of denial. He rushed through his next words, as if regretting he'd even brought the topic up at all. "It's just, the way he was talking, I got the idea that you two had gone pretty far. So. Good for you? I mean, it _has_ been a while for you, hasn't it?"

_'A while,'_ because Allen has been the only one Kanda can think of for ages, now.

"Mind your own _goddamn_ business!" Kanda reached out and gave Allen a shove, half-irritated, half-playful. Allen's face broke into a bright, devious smile— though it was a short-lived one.

"But yeah," Kanda said shortly afterwards, unimpressed with his own lies but continuing the charade nonetheless. "It's fucking fantastic."

"I'm pretty surprised, actually," Allen continued, "I sort of thought Link would be the slow, romantic type. Gentle. Has it really only been a few weeks?"

"Uh, yeah," Kanda said. Then, sensing something about that was strange, he asked, "You thought all that?"

Allen gave a particularly high-pitched laugh, as if startled. "N-not exactly. It just seemed odd. You know?"

Kanda didn't know because he'd never bothered to form much of an opinion about Link before all this.

Instead, he rolled his eyes; a typical defense against most any kind of genuine emotion. He gestured down the road with one hand, trying and failing to summon an air of impatience.

"Come on," he said firmly. "If you can talk, then you can walk. Let's go."

 

* * *

 

After his run with Allen, Kanda showered quickly at home and dressed, hesitating as he passed a mirror.

He wasn't exactly sure what the dress code for this kind of scenario was— it wasn't a date, and it wasn't like he was meeting Link's parents or whatever, but he _was_ attempting to make an impression all the same. In the end, he settled for jeans and a plain shirt, his hair pulled back in a simple black tie. He didn't exactly look special, or even any different than normal, but he did look clean. Presentable. If Link had been expecting anything more, it was his fault for failing to specify.

The drive to Link's apartment was short, and like the last time Kanda had picked Link up on the way to Tiedoll's, he was mildly surprised by how close they really lived. It was within walking distance, but Kanda was loathe to undo all the work from his shower.

The only reason Kanda was actually meeting Link's roommate was because Link had met his family, which was really above and beyond what their little game required. Kanda knew how overwhelming and obnoxious his family was, and that Link still played along despite it all left Kanda strangely indebted. So, even though he earnestly didn't care to actually see Link's friend, he still found himself pulling up outside Link's apartment.

Considering everything Kanda had come to understand about Link's roommate, it sounded like a complete pain in the ass, but Link had framed his request as it was the most logical thing in the world. He'd justified it with the claim that Tokusa had a bigger mouth than anyone he'd ever met, and that the whole thing would likely fall apart if Tokusa couldn't be convinced. Kanda wasn't quite persuaded— he had a hard time believing any human more obnoxious than Lavi could exist, at least without being murdered thus far. Still, a debt was a debt, and Kanda suspected Link had an ulterior motivation driving his desire to show Kanda off in front of his roommate. Namely, romantic motivations.

Kanda had already suspected that Tokusa was the target of Link's affections, and today's request had done nothing to dispel that suspicion.  After all, if that was the case, it would only be natural that Link would want to flaunt Kanda off— and be flaunted in return.

Tracing his steps from the last time, Kanda found Link's door and with a slight hesitation knocked, sharply. The wait between his knocks and Link opening the door felt interminably long.

When Link opened the door, Kanda immediately noted the difference in clothes. Instead of being immaculately dressed, Link wore a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, baring his forearms, and instead of its customary braid, he had his hair tied back. It left Kanda oddly aware of his own hair and of Tiedoll's comment the day before.

Kanda distinctly felt Link's gaze traverse his body down and up before he stepped back, opening the door wider.

"Hey there," Tokusa said. Kanda startled, glancing over Link's shoulder to follow the sound of his voice. Tokusa was sitting back at what must have been the kitchen table, eyebrows quirked, the corner of his mouth upturned into a curiously catlike smile. Slowly, his eyes tracked down over Kanda's body, appraising him openly and without shame. They froze over the exposed length of Kanda's upper arms, taking in pale skin and sinewy, toned muscle. "Wow. _Niiice."_

In just one sentence, Tokusa had somehow managed to not only prove Link's earlier claims, but also to piss Kanda off entirely. Scowling, Kanda dragged his glare from Tokusa to Link, arching a brow.

Link closed his eyes for a long moment and then sighed sharply, gesturing towards his roommate. "This is Tokusa. We've, unfortunately, been friends since high school. Tokusa, meet Kanda, my boyfriend."

Impossibly, Tokusa's smirk grew wider, and he pushed back his chair, standing to peer over Link's shoulder at Kanda. He was taller than Link, which wasn't hard to accomplish, but side by side like this, it was hard not to draw comparisons. Where Link was still nicely dressed even on a day off, Tokusa was clearly the 'roll out of bed and stay in pajamas' all day type. Kanda found it hard to believe that this was Link's end goal, but he didn't know anyone else to consider.

"You know," Tokusa began conversationally, placing his arm on Link's shoulder to lean casually against him. Link scowled, silently protesting Tokusa's sleazy posture. "I didn't think anyone could beat Link at using just his face to say exactly what he felt, but clearly you're an expert at this. This guy hates me, doesn't he?" Tokusa asked, nudging Link with his elbow.

"Don't think you're special," Kanda spat, glaring at Tokusa's arm. "I hate everyone."

"Except Link," Tokusa mused, clearly finding everything about Kanda humorous. "In fact, I hear you like Link quite a bit. I guess he really is a special boy."

Tokusa put one hand over his heart, mock-touched.

Kanda frowned, caught between trying to discern if Tokusa was acting obnoxious out of any type of jealousy, or if he really was this way all the time. Thank fuck Kanda had never met him before.

"Honestly, Kanda, I should be thanking you. I haven't had the apartment to myself this much in ages. Do you know how good it feels to just, like, leave dishes in the sink for a while? So. Damn. Good." Tokusa stared off the distance, as if truly, deeply impacted by Link leaving the house for one or two nights. Link frowned.

"Get off," Link said, not unkindly, but not as harshly as Kanda might have said it. "Can we at least let him into the place before you begin the same old routine every time someone comes over?"

Tokusa laughed and backed off, and finally Kanda stepped in, glancing around curiously. It was evident, as Tokusa complained earlier, that it was cleaned top to bottom. Not even the furniture seemed an inch out of place, all meticulously arranged in perfect accordance with the room. It felt more or less like a showroom.

There was bits of personality here and there, though. A bookshelf stuffed to the brim, with a few novels on side-tables and even on top the shelf itself. A cabinet under the television filled with DVDs, a console system resting above it. The decorations were perfectly nice and therefore perfectly bland, but there were knick-knacks here and there. A tangled mess of earphones were lying on a counter, and even as Link passed it towards the kitchen he snagged them, deftly pulling the tangles loose.

"See?" Tokusa whispered, "I literally just put that there when you knocked. It drives me crazy."

"It drives _me_ crazy when I leave for one night and come back to a literal pigsty," Link said dryly, grabbing glasses and a pitcher of what looked like lemonade. "Kanda, are you hungry?"

Kanda shook his head mutely, still looking the place over, and Tokusa dramatically sat at the kitchen table, fiddling with a stack of books there. "You never ask if _I'm_ hungry."

"You're _always_ hungry," Link said, but there was no heat to it; it was fond, almost. Suddenly, Kanda felt intensely aware of the friendship between the two of them— the way they fell into step with one another effortlessly. Theirs was a hard-earned, well worn-in friendship. Distantly, Kanda tried to calculate just how long, exactly, "since high school" was. About ten years, he figured, give or take. All the same, that was a long fucking time.

Kanda wondered why Link had waited this long to make his move.

When Tokusa grandly gestured towards a chair, Kanda looked towards Link and back, shrugging as he sat. Immediately Tokusa pulled out his phone, fiercely tapping as Link set the glasses on the table. Link was just about to sit beside Kanda when a phone sharply thrilled from another room.

Link glanced towards the sound and at Kanda, as if torn. Before Kanda could tell Link he didn't care if he answered it, Tokusa did, crossing his arms and phone mysteriously gone from sight. "You should answer that," Tokusa said seriously. "Might be work. They're always calling you on weekends."

"Yes," Link said slowly, glancing at Tokusa suspiciously, "I'll be right back, excuse me."

The moment Link disappeared from sight Tokusa leaned forward, shocking Kanda into jerking back as his personal space was invaded.

"So," Tokusa began, voice loud from how close he was. "Link's a peach, but he still won't share all the juicy details with me. Therefore, it looks like I'm gonna have to rely on you for that."

"Details?"

"Yeah, you know. _Details._ So, tell me. How's Link in bed?"

"Did you do that on purpose?" Kanda asked instead, pointing down the hall where Link could be heard speaking quietly.

"Sure as fuck did," Tokusa said, grinning. "Tewaku called him with... a problem, you could say. But never mind that, you gotta tell me!"

Kanda considered Tokusa for a long moment, from the bright shine in his eyes to the casual comfort he clearly shared with Link. He remembered the feel of Allen's back under his palm, the unusual questions Allen had asked, the strange faces. Link had done a lot for him already, even if he didn't know it. If Tokusa was the one Link wanted, then Kanda should return the favor? And what better way was there than to lead Tokusa's imagination on?

For one absurd, dizzying flash of a moment, Kanda allowed himself to imagine it. Link in bed with him. Link, writhing beneath him. Or over him. Or kneeling between his legs. The very idea had him shifting uncomfortably, and he filtered cautiously through what he knew about Link, looking for some image that was concrete enough to be plausible but vague enough that Kanda could keep some distance from it. He thought back to his conversation with Allen— the hot blush that had crept up his neck and cheeks, warm and sweet beneath the heat of the sun. Link would be gentle, he'd said. Slow. Romantic.

He'd already seen Link wearing that same blush before— it was an easily-provoked thing, returning in the flush of embarrassment or intoxication. Kanda supposed it could be considered erotic, given the right circumstances.

The furthest they had gotten was at Allen's party, where Kanda had pushed Link against the wall and kissed him fiercely, bodies seamlessly pressed together, the smell of Link's cologne, the faint taste of liquor on his tongue, the sound of Link's soft surprised moan. Even drunk out of his mind, Kanda had never forgotten the sensation, surprised at himself and at how good it had felt to lose his inhibition. How good it had felt to pull Link's hair and kiss him, hot and dirty and _fuckyesperfect_ until Link was practically melting back against his body. Warm. Pliable.

"It's... good," Kanda said blandly. He folded his arms tightly across his chest, glancing back curiously at Link, who was pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke rapidly into the receiver of his cell phone. With his hair tied up, the nape of his neck was left exposed. "What the hell, sure. It's great. Hot. Yeah. Unexpectedly hot."

"Yeah, Link's hot," Tokusa said, rolling his eyes. "Even if he dresses like a school teacher." Tokusa paused, scrutinizing Kanda. "Unless you're into that?"

As if struck by a sudden thought, Tokusa scooted even closer, grin growing wider. "Actually, is Link into any kinky shit? The way he is, he'd never say it."

Kinky? Kanda glanced at Link again and immediately away, turning it over in his head. Personally, Kanda had never really considered any of that. But _was_ Link?

He took Tokusa's comment, briefly imagining what that might be like before quickly shutting the thought down when it went too far, increasingly aware of Tokusa's lingering stare.

"Sure he is," Kanda hedged, speaking at first just to fill the silence.

His mind flashed back to their first kiss, Kanda's fingers curling in Link's hair, the slight pull and tug forcing Link's head back, how Link had moaned, giving in to Kanda's sudden demand easily; in the diner, where Kanda had grasped Link by the neck and encouraged his gasp into another kiss, digging his fingers into the base of Link's hair then. Kanda had grabbed and held Link hard each of those times, and both of them left Link compliant and flushed. He sure as hell never complained afterwards, either.

"He likes it rough. Getting his hair pulled," Kanda shrugged, focusing on the pile of books and ignoring the intensity of Tokusa's stare. "Scratching, pulling, getting pinned down. I haven't tied him up yet, but I bet he'd like it. That's just how he is."

"Motherfucking _wow,"_ Tokusa said. He wolf-whistled; a low, leering sound. "Now _those_ are some details. Good God. Glad you boys are having fun. I mean, Link needs someone to help him loosen up, you know? And maybe you're exactly that."

Kanda looked back at Link, who was covering his face with one hand as he listened intently to whatever Tewaku was saying on the other end. "Has he always been such an uptight workaholic?"

"Um, kind of a harsh thing to call your boyfriend," Tokusa said. Kanda's eyes flickered back towards Tokusa, finding that his lascivious expression had shifted into something damn near pensive. "But... yeah. He's been like this for as long as I've known him."

_"Why?"_ Kanda asked, rounding to face Tokusa face-to-face. Tokusa hummed, thoughtful, shrugging his shoulders in a motion that managed to both be fluid and completely without grace.

"I have no idea. I try to, you know, take his mind off things when I can. But, the thing is, he doesn't really know... how to stop, you know? How to turn off. How to _relax._ And I don't think I'll ever be able to help him with that."

Tokusa's expression wavered with unspoken affection.

It took Kanda a few moments to recognize this wasn't romantic affection, but rather... somewhat brotherly. Link, Kanda realized, was a liar. After all, he really did have a family.

"Anyways, Link seems pretty happy," Tokusa said abruptly, His smile returned in full force, all sharp teeth and cunning and curious indolence, but less irritating now that Kanda could read the genuine fondness carefully concealed within. "So, thanks. For turning him off. Or for turning him on, but that's just the same thing in the end, huh?" Tokusa snickered. "Anyways, I'm not gonna bother with any kind of shovel talk, seeing as you could probably kill me with your bare hands if you wanted to. So, we're cool."

Tokusa brought his phone out again, so close at this point that Kanda could easily see the screen of his phone. He sent a text to Tewaku, and less than a minute later Link sighed in relief, coming back down the hall.

Link took his seat beside Kanda with no hesitation, sitting so carelessly close their knees brushed, his foot coming to a stop right behind Kanda's. Link poured a drink for himself with the slightest pinch to his expression.

"Work?" Tokusa asked eagerly, grinning.

"No, no," Link said, taking a sip. "Tewaku. She was asking me about how I got my tattoo — I think she's considering one for herself."

It was on the tip of Kanda's tongue to finally ask the story behind Link's tattoo, but Link pierced Tokusa with a sharp look. "What were you two talking about?"

"Your hot ass, mostly," Tokusa said. "More specifically, how said hot ass holds up in the sack. Actually, I'm glad you could join us. I was just about to inquire about your stamina. How are things looking in that department? Ten minutes? Five minutes? Thirty seconds?"

Link's mouth dropped open, eyes widening to fix both Kanda and Tokusa with a horrified glare. His incandescent blush managed to reach even the nape of his neck, visible now that his hair was tied up. "That... is _none_ of your business!"

"Kanda?" Tokusa prompted, nudging his shoulder. Kanda just shrugged, expressionless.

"Longer than thirty seconds, definitely. Won't say how much longer, though."

"Why are we even talking about this?" Link asked desperately, growing more and more incensed. "No, don't tell me. Kanda would never bring this up first."

"Are you accusing me of creating a diversion to solicit intimate information from your beloved boyfriend?" Tokusa said, mock-affronted as he shook his head slowly. "Shame on you, Howard."

"I'm going to throttle you one of these days," Link muttered, disbelief and incredulity mixing in his voice. "Tewaku, too. Do I even want to know what you've been discussing for the last five minutes?"

"Probably not," Tokusa responded cheerfully. "Unless you've got a thing for bondage. In that case, the answer is _yes,_ and things are looking good for you."

Link's problem, Kanda thought, watching as Link paused to take in the meaning of Tokusa's words, was that he was far too serious. Speechless, Link glanced between Kanda and Tokusa, and Kanda had never even attempted any of this bullshit at all before, but that Link was clearly contemplating it gave him a pause.

"Well, I shouldn't keep you two here any longer. Wouldn't want you holding yourselves back on my account. I mean, you are gonna stay over at Kanda's tonight, right?"

Link blanched, appearing to be momentarily at a loss. "Oh, well, I didn't exactly make any plans—"

"C'mon, don't give me that," Tokusa rolled his eyes. He gave Link a playful shove on the shoulder, pushing him back against Kanda's body. "You've got clothes to tear off, dicks to suck, kinky-weird spanking sessions to get through. I don't know, whatever it is you kids are into these days."

"Oh my God, _enough,"_ Link hissed, burying his face into his hands. Kanda shifted minutely, Link's knee sliding along his thigh with the movement. "Alright, _fine._ Better we go than stay here and deal with—" Link gestured in jerky movements towards all of Tokusa, inciting a laugh.

Kanda shrugged, more or less okay with just leaving. When Link stood up he followed suit, the sound of the chairs scraping back echoed by Tokusa's.

Tokusa followed them to the door, leaning against its frame as he watched them leave. They were just about to leave when Tokusa suddenly called out. "Kanda!"

At his name, he turned back, watching that abominable grin resurface.

"Don't be too rough with him, now. Link's a delicate little flower."

Link groaned, grabbing Kanda by his arm to encourage them further away, his grip secure on Kanda's forearm, fingers pressing against Kanda's skin with a confidence Kanda had never seen in Link before.

When had Link ever touched him voluntarily?

Kanda didn't bother pulling himself free until they reached his car. He hadn't expected to be bringing Link home with him that night, but as it was, he couldn't bring himself to protest or even feel particularly irritated by the arrangement. For the time being, he decided to just go with the flow, sliding into the front seat while Link sidled hesitantly into the passenger seat. Link grumbled half-heartedly about exactly how obnoxious Tokusa ended up being as Kanda drove them back home, looking thoroughly miffed and more than a little relieved to have escaped his mortification.

Halfway back, Link abruptly grew quiet. Kanda spared him a glance and found him pensive, brows drawn downwards. At the beginning, Kanda had thought Link only had four expressions— annoyed, pinched, disinterested, or plain blank— but after spending this past week together, Kanda had discovered a subtle nuance to all of them. How despite it all, Link's eyes were the most expressive, or how all the little details that had initially seemed to make no sense all began to add up. His tattoo, being at Allen's party in the first place, his friendship with Tokusa and even the idiocy that led to their dating— all of it showed Link was more than a straight-laced bitch like Kanda had first thought.

"I'm sorry," Link said suddenly, startling Kanda. "Tokusa and I have been friends for so long, I forget just how... over the top he can be to those who don't know him."

Kanda remained quiet, turning Link's words over. Finally, once they were already parking before his apartment and Link was unbuckling his seatbelt, Kanda said, "It didn't bother me. I'm used to Lavi being the same."

Link sighed quietly, as if in relief, and all of just confused Kanda further. What did Link care if Kanda hated or liked Tokusa? It wasn't like this was real and Link had to face future discomfort if his boyfriend hated his best friend.

Kanda wouldn't deny having felt the same before, though, when Link had talked quietly with his family over dinner, conversation easy and light, wearing a small pleased smile when Tiedoll complimented his apple pie.

There was also the surprising miracle that Kanda had been able to get along with Tokusa at all. Kanda _knew_ he was difficult, and he didn't give a shit about being friendly with the whole damn world like some people did, but having a mostly pleasant conversation every now and then was... okay. More than okay.

Thinking of Tokusa brought the entire exchange back to his mind and he twisted in his seat to eye Link, who grew nervous under his undisguised stare.

"So, _do_ you like it rough?" Kanda asked, carefully watching Link.

As expected, the question brought back Link's embarrassed flush, eyes growing wide and shoulders tensing. His hands fluttered awkwardly in his lap, and with nothing for them to do he settled for grabbing the seat belt still loosely across his lap. "Does it matter?"

Kanda looked Link up and down critically. The longer he continued to stare, taking Link in unabashedly and without shame, the more he found himself picking up on Link's minute reactions. His fingers tightened along the belt and he shifted his legs restlessly, his lips pressed firmly together but eyes flickering away, darting back every few seconds to gauge Kanda's own expression.

Kanda didn't know exactly what face he was making. He didn't even know what he was thinking, really, but what he _did_ know was that seeing Link like this, bringing all those earlier thoughts and carelessly made comments to life, felt satisfying in a way Kanda hadn't experienced in what felt like years.

He reached forward, slowly enough that if Link wanted to he could've moved away, or swatted Kanda's hand aside, or found the words to tell Kanda off. He didn't. Instead, he sat very still, eyes wide as Kanda's hand curled along the nape of his neck. Slowly, Kanda's thumb wandered to caressing the line of Link's jaw, fingers trailing into the taut pull of Link's ponytail. With the slightest pressure, he encouraged Link forward. Link didn't resist Kanda pulled harder, one hand beckoning him closer towards the console, and closer to Kanda's own body.

"It's a yes or no question," Kanda said. His fingers, still tangled in Link's hair, tightened. Link's teeth worried the flush surface of his lower lip, but still, he didn't force Kanda away. Rather, he seemed to chase Kanda's touch, breath hitching in alarm when Kanda's hand slid down to the rise of his shoulders and threated to slip away. "Don't be difficult."

"A hollow accusation, coming from you," Link said. This was less a protestation and more a diversion. His eyelashes fanned low, falling to half-mast, pink lips parting into an open fall that struck Kanda, then, as irresistibly inviting.

"Is it, now?" Kanda said, voice low.

Link's eyes fell to Kanda's lips, and from that point they didn't stray. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Kanda leaned forwards and kissed Link, fingers now digging into his blonde hair forcefully, nearly yanking it entirely from its careful tie. One of Link's hands jerked up, latching on to Kanda's arm in a painful grip, but only to hold on. 

When Kanda tugged Link back and saw the effects written plain as day across Link's face, he said, "You _do_ like it rough. You can't even deny it."

"How I like it," Link said, sounding breathless and a little beautiful and _wrecked_ already, "is none of your business."

Kanda yanked Link's hair back a little harder, almost as if to punish him. Link gasped— a sharp, quickly cut-off sound that went straight to Kanda's dick.

"Maybe I'm making it my business," he growled, forcibly tilting Link's head back with one hand to expose his neck. He could feel Link shivering against him. He looked vulnerable— looked _exposed._ Kanda liked it. He liked it much, much more than he'd ever imagined he would. "Any objections?"

Kanda's lips on Link's throat and his hand entangled in Link's hair turned his "No," into a breathless moan. Kanda mouthed along Link's throat, but the moment his other hand came forward to grip Link's hip, anchoring himself over the console, Link's hands flew up, grabbing his arms and pushing away.

"Not," Link breathed, holding Kanda in place, "like this. Anybody could walk by and see us."

"Then let's go somewhere we can be alone."

 

* * *

 

The back of Link's legs hit the bed and he fell back, breath leaving him in a gasp as he grasped the sheets, pushing himself up. Kanda immediately followed, kneeling on either side of Link's hips and pushing down on Link's chest, pressing him further into the mattress.

Link struggled, writhing between Kanda's legs, if only to not give in so easily. This was better than Kanda had assumed already. His imagination hadn't supplied the heady flush in Link's cheeks, his neck, his ears, or the way his blond hair framed his face, bangs falling back and highlighting the heated look in his eyes, or even the way Link felt, hot and real and solid beneath Kanda.

Kanda moved to straddle Link, leaning down over his body to pin his wrists against the bed. This earned him another gasp from Link— and a pleasant one, by the sound of it. He strained back against Kanda, not to wrench himself free, but to test his grip. Kanda remained firm, gripping Link's wrists tightly now he was certain it must be painful. Link didn't seem to mind, though. Neither did Kanda.

Kanda leaned down to nip at Link's jawline, and when that pulled a whimper from Link's mouth, Kanda grew bold. His mouth worked downwards, each bite a little harder than the last until he was sucking down against Link's shoulder to leave a hot, dark mark.

Shifting slightly to accommodate the position, Kanda nudged Link's legs apart and pushed a solid thigh between them. He grinned when it made Link groan brokenly, then trailing off into an awed exhale when Link began rutting against it just slightly, flushing warm with heat and desperately turned on.

Link's hips lifted, pressing closer to Kanda, and if for nothing else than to put Link in his place Kanda released his wrists, grabbing his hips roughly and forcing him flat on the bed.

Link didn't seem to mind, straining under Kanda's hold until Kanda's fingers tugged Link's shirt free, the touch of skin on skin startling Link into a sudden gasp.

"Wow," Kanda said, voice lower than he intended. He spread his fingers, feeling the supple skin over firm muscle, the lines of his hips, hands disappearing under Link's white shirt, "You really are easy, aren't you? You just want me to fuck you right here and now, don't you?"

Hands free now, Link reached forward, fingers tracing patterns up Kanda's waist and to his back, fingering the hem of his shirt. "And who," Link said, voice wonderfully breathless and hitching on every movement of Kanda's fingers, "was the one who came onto me in the car? If you think _I'm_ throwing myself at _you,_ then you're severely mistaken."

Kanda pressed harder against Link's growing erection, deftly unbuttoning Link's shirt all the way and spreading it wide, hands pressing flat on the slate of Link's stomach. He could feel the way Link's muscles flexed, skin sensitive and hot, and Kanda trailed up, over his abdomen, his sternum, triumphant when Link's back arched as Kanda's fingers glided over his nipples.

Kanda didn't linger though, continuing up and over Link's shoulder, curling around to his neck. He found the hair tie still loosely holding Link's hair together and harshly pulled it free, drawing a cry from Link.

"Do you even _hear_ yourself?" Kanda asked viciously, grabbing a fistful of Link's hair. "Does that _sound_ like someone just taking it?"

Link's breath quickened, but he pressed his lips firmly together, face turning aside. Through the fall of his bangs Link slyly glanced at him, hands sliding under Kanda's shirt, insistent despite Kanda's cruel words.

Kanda frowned then, leaning away and letting Link's hair go, hands idly retracing their path back down. He thumbed Link's ribs, memorized the quick flutter of Link's breath. "It's so easy for you, just taking it. We've only been together a week and here you are, ready to fuck and be fucked."

Link's eyes flashed dark, arousal and anger mixing. He really had such expressive eyes, and the sharp pain in Kanda's back as Link's fingers dug into his skin there acted as the silent reprimand Link wouldn't voice.

Kanda leaned back over, ghosting his lips over Link's collarbone and, now that his shirt was open, down his chest, pressing an almost tender kiss to Link's heart. "Who is it?"

Between Kanda's hands, lips, and the thigh against Link's arousal, Link seemed more and more overwhelmed, heart beating rapidly and hands curling over the sliver of skin exposed at Kanda's back.

"Who is what?" Link asked after a long moment, voice beautifully torn and weak. But in direct contrast, his hands were hot and insistent, fingers dipping into the hem of Kanda's pants, tentatively explorative, the sensual drag of his palms over Kanda's skin just as distracting as the taste of him in Kanda's mouth.

Kanda turned his kiss into a bruising bite, pleasure crackling like fire within him when Link moaned openly, helplessly, mouth falling open under Kanda's unforgiving touch.

"You know damned well what I mean," Kanda said. He moved slower than he'd really intended now, running his tongue teasingly along the line of Link's collarbone before settling into a punishing bite. He felt Link sink back, no longer struggling but simply submitting. Kanda trailed a hand down Link's thigh, then up along the inner side of it. "The one you're so _desperate_ to make jealous. Who the fuck is it? What, is it Tokusa? Madarao? Or—"

"I'll tell you," Link grit out between hard breaths, eyes still cold despite the fact his body was burning up, "if you tell me first."

Kanda laughed, and the sound travelled over Link's skin, causing him to shiver. "This isn't a fucking negotiation."

Link twisted back against the sheets. His features, once fogged-over with pleasure, were slowly beginning to settle back into a frown— he was returning to himself.

"Why do you even care?"

"I _don't_ care," Kanda said, the response automatic and rougher than he'd intended.

"Then what does it matter?" Link asked, in such a way that Kanda knew he was throwing his own words back at him.

_What does it matter?_

It doesn't. Didn't. Never did.

Instead of answering, Kanda ducked back down, mouthing another kiss onto Link's skin, sucking hard enough to leave it red and angry when he pulled back. When Kanda made to leave another Link shook his head slightly. Kanda stopped, hovering over Link's chest a moment longer as he attempted to pull himself together.

Kanda shifted up, giving Link room to breathe, but instead of moving away or just laying back Link moved closer, eyes closing momentary as Kanda's thigh pressed firmly against his dick. He didn't chase it however, pulling himself up on his elbows and placing his face close to Kanda's, breaths away.

"So what is it?" Link asked, not kindly but not coldly either. Tone perfectly measured despite his less than steady breaths. "Did you want it just to have your way with me? Work out some of your own curiosities?"

_"No,"_ Kanda grit out, refusing to move back like he was cowed but finding the immediate presence of Link's face distracting.

"Then what?" Link's face twisted sharply then, arousal bleeding away and leaving behind frigid anger. "I'm not here as some kind of toy for you to get off on. I'm not a _replacement_ for whoever it is you so desperately want."

At that, Kanda's feelings settled into sharp indignation, drawing away and finding Link's proximity suddenly aggravating and disgusting. "As if you could possibly match up to the real thing. Don't fucking flatter yourself."

With that, Link shoved away, pulling his legs free from Kanda's and scooting backwards, edging towards the side of the bed.

"Of course," Link snapped, back straight and head held high, any signs of arousal gone. "I never intended to. That you wanted to use me that way— that's more than we agreed on."

Link was already off the bed and standing by the time the meaning behind his words truly registered in Kanda's mind, and he turned to face Link. "Wait, hold on, you've got it wrong. That's not what this is about."

Link sharply shook his head, arranging his shirt to at least lay right on his shoulders.

"No, fucking listen. Look," Kanda sighed, running his hand through his hair roughly and then closing his eyes for a moment, tempering his anger. "I never said you were a... a replacement. You're not. That's not what this is about."

Link didn't turn around this time, folding his arms one over the other as if to wall himself off from Kanda. Growing frantic, Kanda lifted himself off the mattress with one arm, swinging his legs over the bed to stand and follow Link across the room. He managed to catch Link by the wrist just as he was reaching for the handle to the bedroom door, holding him there with enough strength to be firm, but gentle enough to be certain he wouldn't hurt Link. Not this time.

"You've got the wrong idea, okay?" Kanda said, not knowing why, exactly, he was bargaining with Link— why he was so desperate to have Link understand what he was trying to do, despite the fact he barely understood himself. Maybe it had something to do with the way Link's shoulders gathered up, tight and tense and so obviously _hurt._ He wondered if it was true, what Tokusa said. That Link was delicate.

Kanda had never intended to hurt Link.

Kanda's mouth grew dry, words failing him now. He'd never been the type to speak what he felt. It never came easy to him, but Link's shoulders were still tightly tensed and held together, face turned away, the shape of him somehow sad.

With his free hand, Kanda slowly dragged his way up Link's back. His touch was explorative, now. Damn near gentle. When Link didn't shake him off, Kanda moved to cup the base of Link's neck, fingers moving to tuck the long fall of Link's hair over one shoulder and exposing his nape. Link shivered, still staring ahead at the door, but didn't move to open it. Kanda wondered what sort of face Link was making— whether the hurt was still flashing over his features, soft, uncertain, and wrong enough to pull Kanda's stomach tight into a ball of guilt.

Mindlessly, Kanda leaned forwards to leave a gentle kiss on the side of Link's neck. He could hear the sound of Link shuddering through a sigh. In that one exhale, all the tension seemed to bleed free from his body. His hand, caught between Kanda's own, went slack. Encouraged, Kanda grazed his teeth carefully over the back of Link's neck. Link tilted his head forwards, hair falling with his movements to expose more of his neck and shoulders to Kanda's curious hands and lips.

This quiet forgiveness eased the sickening guilt Kanda had felt, and the soft sounds Link made in the back of his throat spurred on Kanda's affections.

Kanda pressed another dry kiss into the curve of Link's shoulder, and another, and another, until Link was boneless, lips parted on soft breaths, the pale lashes of his eyes fluttering closed over his cheeks.

He tugged the back of Link's collar down, the shirt riding higher up on Link's chest as Kanda pulled it away and down, baring Link's shoulder blades. The hand on the doorknob tightened, the tension traveling all the way of Link's arms and emphasizing the jut of Link's shoulder. Kanda kissed it, the pressure behind it leaving Link lax once more. Kanda traced the outline of it with his lips, curving down until Link was leaning forward, baring more of his back. His shirt fell further, resting entirely in the crook of his arms, the fabric hanging and exposing the small of Link's back.

Kanda's hand was still tight on Link's arm, not painfully, but securely, thumb rubbing circles on the inside of Link's wrist, feeling the staccato beat of Link's heart when he passed over it. The warmth of Link's skin had enhanced the subtle hints of his cologne, turning into a heady intoxication that surrounded Kanda. Each kiss was like a spell, winding Kanda closer and closer, until nothing existed except the taste of Link's skin on his lips, the sound of his hitched breaths, his own flush building across his cheeks, down his chest, his hands where he held Link, thrumming inside of him, a familiar fervent emotion enrapturing him.

Like this, with Link almost presenting himself to Kanda, it was impossible not to accept, to pull his hands away from their slow exploration, to stop trailing kisses down the line of Link's back, every shiver and shudder and stuttered breath felt under his fingertips, ringing in his ears.

Kanda's lips parted, tongue sliding hot over Link's skin. Link jolted as if Kanda had shocked him, shoulders jerking and hand releasing the door handle to brace himself against the door, forehead falling against it with a muted thud. Slowly, Link's shirt slipped away from his shoulders completely. All at once, there was the slick sound of the garment falling away between them and onto the floor, exposing Link's entire back and shoulders to Kanda's attentive curiosity.

Link barely even seemed to register the loss, more preoccupied with the seemingly insurmountable task of keeping himself upright. The purchase of his hands against the flat surface of the door seemed to be the only thing keeping his legs from buckling beneath him. Instinctively, Kanda moved to wrap one arm around Link's waist to secure him. Steady him, if possible.

Somehow, the sensation of Link's body close against his, the soft give of Link's stomach flexing over Kanda's forearms, ignited the warmth building between them into a heat that Kanda branded on Link's skin, kisses turning into love bites that left Link's skin red even against the growing flush overtaking his face and neck.

The sounds building in the back of Kanda's throat tumbled out onto Link's skin between hot kisses, words said thoughtlessly, mindlessly, truthfully.

"You sound so good," Kanda murmured, hiding the honesty in his words by sucking hard on Link's skin. Link cried out, short and sharp, choking it off. "So hot."

He leaned back, just enough to see the wet evidence lingering on Link's skin, and shifted to brush his lips across bare skin, a tender promise. Then, he sealed his lips, closing his eyes when Link shuddered, making soft tiny sounds he tried to hide.

And because he knew Link was half-gone in his arms and that his words could go nearly unheard, he said, "How could you ever be a replacement?"

Kanda shifted his arms until his hands splayed against Link's skin, one just over Link's hip and the other in the dip of Link's waist. Kanda held him almost _possessively_ as Link reflexively twisted in Kanda's embrace, each kiss drawing another pant, sigh, bit-back moan.

It was when Kanda finally drifted back up, lips settling over the crook of Link's shoulder and neck and biting down, that Link's head jerked back, mouth falling open on a moan so loud and clear it startled Kanda, lifting off Link's skin and lips wet and red from abuse. Link's hair fell back over his shoulder with the movement, brushing against the side of Kanda's face so that he could smell nothing but Link.

Suddenly, Kanda was aware of everything. How hot Link was against him, how hard he was, the sound of Link's breathy sighs, and the smell of his cologne and shampoo, warm and enticing, and even the strain in Kanda's thighs as he supported them against the door.

_And who was the one who came on to me?_

Link's words came back to Kanda like a slap in the face and he abruptly staggered back, hand rising to cover his mouth and feeling the heat rising to his face as he returned to himself, realizing with a sudden start what he'd done. And just how much of it he'd done.

He'd taken this too far. That was all there was too it. It took only one look at Link to confirm it. He was half-collapsed against the wall, panting hard, and his back— it took Kanda a minute to realize just how much a mess he'd made of Link. Beautiful, delicate Link, with his cold-eyed scowls and hot, flushing moans. There were scores of hickeys and love marks decorating the slope of his shoulders, curving all the way up to his nape and neck.  That wasn't even accounting for the bites and sucks Kanda had trailed down across his chest and stomach, either, or the lush, kiss-bruised swell of his lips.

This, Kanda reflected, watching the tendons and muscles shift just beneath the skin of Link's bare back, was probably a mistake.

He blinked himself back into focus. Thought of the way Allen had been flush from running, the way Allen bit his lip when he thought, the way Allen gasped and panted in exertion without ever giving an inch, not for a second.

A mistake. This had all been a mistake. One that he ought to put an end to right here, before it went any damn further.

_Get your fucking head together,_ Kanda thought, pressing a palm flat against his temple, willfully ignoring the near painful throbbing of his cock. _He's not your goddamn boyfriend. This isn't real. Don't be an idiot._

He backed away until he hit the bed, falling down to sit on the edge as he traced the pattern of marks up and down Link's back, searing each one into his memory. The bright blossoming red against the pale of Link's skin stood out in such stark contrast it was almost beautiful, like red petals painstakingly arranged in worship of Link's body.

Link's shoulders gradually eased into careful, moderated breathing, back arching into its natural dip and curve as he finally straightened, hands falling from the wall to linger at his sides. As if showcasing the twist of muscle and the play of his skin over it, Link slowly turned, facing Kanda.

Kanda fought the absurd urge to cross his legs, knowing the way he sat with them wide open was doing nothing but drawing Link's attention to his obvious erection, but Link was making no efforts to hide his own, standing tall and straight even as Kanda blatantly stared at the marks all over Link's chest.

There weren't as many as on his back, but the ones here were much darker, clearly impassioned and sucked on hard. They'd last much longer than the others; evidence of Kanda's shameful loss of control.

Link finally tore his gaze from Kanda's body and down to his own, face alarmingly blank as he took in all the damage.

"Oh," he said numbly. Kanda very nearly startled at the sound of his voice. Slowly, Link's hand wandered down over his collar to thumb at one particularly angry mark, at the center of which you could still see the faint indentation of Kanda's teeth. Kanda was almost tempted into apologizing. Almost. "That's..."

He frowned. Kanda looked away, suddenly feeling unable to face the reality of their current situation. Link, on the other hand, seemed spacey and unaware, fingertips wandering from mark to mark with an innocent curiosity, as if they belonged to another person, another body.

"My back," Link said, hands reaching the lowest one, right above his navel, fingers framing the mark between them. "I want to see it."

Kanda's throat closed with sudden anxiety, knowing exactly how bad Link's back was. Instead, he mutely nodded, fumbling with his phone from his pants pocket. He gestured for Link to turn around, standing up to move closer. Link back against the door like this, shirt still curved around the back of his feet where it fell earlier, strands of blond hair falling back between his shoulder blades, brought back that earlier rush of arousal.

Kanda fiercely ignored it, focusing on angling the camera. He snapped a photo, looked it over, and then silently handed it towards Link.

"Huh," Link said. He blinked down at the phone, his reaction at first comically underwhelming. Then, something seemed to hit him. He squinted down at Kanda's phone, drawing his fingers together to zoom into one particular section of the photo. "Oh. _Oh."_

Link clapped one hand over his neck, the motion jerkily abrupt. His eyes went wide, as if he was suddenly struck with a realization that hadn't occurred to him previously.

"My neck," he blurted out, speaking in a mortified rush that was so tight with shame that Kanda couldn't help but grit his teeth. "I have work on Monday. I don't suppose these—that they'll fade in time..?"

"That's," Kanda started, clearing his throat when his voice came out all wrong, "not going away. At least, not in just two days."

"You couldn't have avoided my neck?" Link asked.

"Is _that_ your only problem?" Kanda demanded, Link's own blasé reaction creating a sharp contrast to the minor panic attack Kanda was experiencing. Galled by it, he forced all of it down into a predictable irritation no one could fault him for. "I didn't see you complaining while I was doing it."

"I don't know what I was thinking, alright?" Link pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes still engrossed by the image of his own back— Kanda reached forwards hastily to snatch his phone back. Link didn't protest, but he didn't quite look Kanda in the eye, either. "I wasn't thinking. Wasn't thinking at all. A... lapse in judgement on my part."

"A lapse in fucking judgment," Kanda repeated, voice sharp in his disbelief. "That's what you call this?"

"What more do you want?" Link said, a faint tremble in his words reminding Kanda that Link could lie with the best of them. "Look at me. 'We got ourselves into this mess and we're going to have to live with it.' It's... fine."

Kanda looked at him as he asked, _really_ looked at him, beyond the hickies and bruises and toned muscles and soft blond hair and at the twist of his lips, the expression all in his eyes, the unwavering stare Link gave and the way he never hesitated. Link, Kanda realized, had understood from the beginning what dating would entail, had considered much more of it than Kanda even fathomed.

It reminded him of his earlier thoughts, that the Link he'd first assumed, the one he'd thought very little of, was much more different than the one who stood before him, covered in love bites but still standing straight and tall.

Kanda shook his head minutely, but Link's own unwavering confidence settled whatever rioting emotions Kanda might have had. He bent down, grasping Link's shirt and snapping it free of any dirt, holding it out to Link.

Link looked at his hand, trailed up his arm to meet Kanda's eyes, and held them for a long moment, unspoken sentiments traveling between them, but what they were Kanda didn't know.

All he knew as that when Link accepted it, the dark ink of his tattoo in stark contrast to the crisp white of his shirt, Link gave something to Kanda in return, soothing his nerves all at once and erasing any traces of shame or regret.

Link pulled his shirt on and deftly buttoned it, all the way to his neck, but still, under his jaw, round his ear, across his nape, were the lingering remains of Kanda's kisses.

Kanda glanced down at his phone, where the still image of Link's ravaged back was still blinking in the low light of his bedroom. For a moment, he stared down at it. Like that first photo of their hands intertwined, the still reality pictured there made it startling substantial. Even worse, the photo clearly defined each mark, throwing it all into sharp relief.

There was no running away from this.

For just a moment, his thumb hovered over the delete function, just one press away from erasing it all.

Yet, like the sense of weakness he always denied and beat into submission, he did not. Locking his phone and forever preserving the evidence in their 'lapse of judgment'.

The other pictures had been for Allen. Allen, Link's yet anonymous love, and just about everyone else Kanda had ever met.

This one, though?

This was a piece of Link that Kanda would keep for himself.


	5. Chapter 5

The quiet ambiance of the kitchen was soothing, the hiss of the burner, the clink of dishes against each other, the soft hum of the overhead fan; white noise that helped Kanda focus on the moment, the here and now.

He idly gave the boiling pot another turn, watching the rise and fall of the bubbling water, staring blankly through the heavy steam. In a way, it was a good thing he only knew how to make simple dishes, because as it was he couldn't focus worth shit.

Without anywhere else to go, Link was still caged in Kanda's apartment for the rest of the evening, as well as the night that would follow. This would all be just fine, more or less, if Kanda hadn't pinned him down and nearly fucked him about an hour prior. Which was making things just about as disastrously awkward as they could possibly fucking get.

The kettle shrieked, startling Kanda from his thoughts. He shut the heat off quickly, pouring out two cups of tea. All the hot steam was only serving to aggravate Kanda, what with the hot summer nights and flush of shame from what had just happened, but he pushed it all back. Focused on just steeping the tea. It occurred to him that he didn't know how to prepare Link's, but he didn't feel much like asking.

Nothing good would come from dwelling from what had happened. He knew that. He knew that perfectly well. All the same, he felt as though it was the only thing he could think about—the conscious effort to block the physical, tangible memory of it was consuming the whole of his mental capacity, leaving him capable of little other than simple, mechanical tasks.

Every few moments or so, as his fingers busied themselves desperately fiddling with the stovetop, he would slip and it would all come flooding in, so temptingly slow and insidious; Link's mouth, hot on his, Link's hitched, breath-caught moans, Link's flushing body and throbbing cock and those goddamn  _marks_. Bruises. Kisses. Bites.

Kanda bit down over his lower lip hard, stirring a heaping lump of sugar into Link's tea.

He could hear the television in his living room faintly playing, as if Link had turned the volume down to nearly nothing. Setting his own cup aside on the counter and turning the burner down slightly, Kanda grabbed Link's cup and carefully carried it over to the living room, standing just before as he caught a glimpse of the television.

It was a documentary of some sort. Link hadn't noticed him yet, eyes focused on the screen and hands idly braiding his loose hair over his shoulder. There was something peculiarly mesmerizing, there, in the careful action of his fingers weaving the blonde fall of his hair together. Kanda had never seen Link braid his hair before, and he'd never bothered to learn himself. It seemed too involved a process for something so frivolous. All of a sudden, though, he could see the appeal. The deft movements of Link's fingers as he twisted his hair around and under and through was soothing, slow and repetitive and assured. The moment didn't last long before Link's eyes slid his way, alarmingly focused on Kanda.

Kanda's grip on the cup tightened, before he finally moved over. Link tied off his braid, flicking it over his shoulder as Kanda approached. 

"Here," Kanda said gruffly, holding the cup out. Link took it gingerly, staring down at the dark surface of the liquid. Kanda could just briefly see his reflection in it, the faint blue light of the television, and then it was gone, cradled carefully as Link took a tentative sip.

Immediately Kanda could see his effort to keep a face down, a pinch in his brow and a slight grimace.

"What?" Kanda demanded. "You don't like my fucking tea?"

"It's just fine," Link murmured, taking another careful sip. His expression was perfectly bland, then. Perfectly  _transparent_ , too. Link was an awful liar.

"If you don't like it, don't fucking drink it," Kanda snapped, turning on his heel when he heard the pot start to over boil.

He thought he heard Link sigh behind him, but by then the pot was really threatening to boil over and Kanda quickly stirred it, moving to strain the pasta over the sink.

He glanced back quickly, watching in exasperation as Link resolutely struggled through his cup of tea. His determined, strained politeness might have actually managed to be charming if it hadn't been so completely  _ridiculous_.

He supposed it was just typical that Link would be fussy about bitter foods. Silently, he reminded himself to be more conscientious of the fact in the future.

He mixed the sauce and pasta together and served two plates, carrying them over to the living room. Link was still gazing at the television, eyes clouded over in thought. Link glanced up wearily as Kanda grew near.

He actually looked somewhat surprised when his eyes focused on the proffered plate, as if he hadn't expected Kanda to offer him anything, which was honestly just fucking  _sad_.

"Oh," Link said, just this side of terse. His eyes flickered between Kanda's face and the outstretched plate, as if saying _for me?_  Kanda stared back blankly, a silent  _well, fucking duh._ "Thank you."

He reached forwards hesitantly, accepting the plate in one quick, darting gesture like Kanda might retract the offer at any moment. 

"It's nothing," Kanda said, too fast.

They lapsed into a brief silence.

"I didn't know you cooked," Link said quietly, settling the plate on his lap. He picked the fork up but just held it, hesitating as he considered Kanda again. 

"A ten year old could cook that," Kanda sniffed, turning away to sit far on the other side of the couch, comfortably against the arm chair. Betraying his own suspicion, Link turned the pasta over his own fork and examined it closely before apparently judging it edible. He took a cautious bite, chewing slowly and intently as if Kanda's shitty ten-minute pasta was something to be savored. Which it really, really wasn't.

"This is good," Link offered, and really, he should know better than to lie to Kanda at this point.

"You're so full of shit," Kanda snorted.

"Fine," Link amended with a sigh, and Kanda could've sworn he caught him rolling his eyes for a flash of a second. "Let me correct myself. This is  _acceptable_. Are you satisfied?"

"Not especially," Kanda said. He twirled his own pasta and ate it, and they fell into a short silence interrupted only by commercials and the occasional scrape of fork on plate. It was enough to turn the taste of the food sour on his tongue. He felt horribly aware of not only their silence but also of what they could be saying.

Link's braid hid most of the marks on the nape of his neck, but between his jaw and collar Kanda could still see one. He shifted uncomfortably.

The thing was, Kanda didn't mind silence. He preferred it, even. Talking for the sake of talking was annoying and frankly, unnecessary. The problem was, though, that there  _was_ something to talk about. Something really fucking important.

_'How could you ever be a replacement?'_

_That_  wasn't nothing. Kanda wasn't an idiot. Link had been hurt and Kanda had comforted him as best as he could, beyond what was needed, really. What had transpired between them wasn't as simple as adding a side of benefits to this sham of a relationship, it had undercurrent of actual emotions beyond fucking and being fucked. And  _that_ was what was tripping Kanda up. They couldn't just ignore this, no matter how much Kanda wanted to.

Talking about it, however, was a problem of its own.

"So," Kanda said suddenly, clearly startling Link. There was something off in his expression, almost vulnerable in the flicker of his eyes. It caught Kanda off guard.

"Yes?" Link prompted, after another bout of silence.

Kanda opened his mouth to say,  _that wasn't just a lapse of judgment and you goddamn know it'_  and  _what just happened isn't 'fine'_ and  _if I'd taken it further back then, would you have let me?_

What he said instead was "What are you going to wear tonight?"

Link glanced down at his clothes, vividly reminding Kanda of the last time Link had looked down at his chest, fingers framing the various bruises on sternum. Kanda glanced away, catching sight of the still ongoing documentary.

"I hadn't planned on spending the night, but Tokusa didn't give me much choice in the matter," Link said, tugging at his shirt collar and frowning down vaguely at the stiff give of it.

Kanda tapped his fork against the edge of the plate, staring at the television blankly. "You can borrow some of mine," he said.

Link murmured a polite thanks and they devoted themselves to their food, finishing it off more quickly than Kanda might have had he been alone. Link volunteered to do the dishes, which was just fine by Kanda. It gave him enough time to go back to his room and change.

When he closed the door to his room he couldn't help lingering a bit, staring at the place Link had been. Back here, alone, it was harder to forget it all. The sound of Link's weight pressing against the door, the metallic clatter as he desperately grabbed at the doorknob, the barely-there moans Link bit back. Kanda's bedsheets, unkempt from the evening's earlier disturbance, served as a physical, tangible reminder of that which had transpired.

He wondered if Link's scent was still trapped between them. He wondered how Link would've looked against them without his clothes on, bare skin framed against the startling white of the linens. He wondered what Link would've sounded like with his cries muffled against Kanda's mattress.

Then, quite abruptly, he forced himself not to wonder at anything at all.

He shook the image and sounds off, roughly grabbing his own clothes and an extra set for Link and swiftly changing, remembering the last time Link had stayed the night. Kanda had blatantly watched Link undress and hadn't felt a thing then. He couldn't imagine the same happening now.

Dressed, he left the folded set on the counter of his bathroom and walked back to the kitchen to find Link finished up, drying the last dish to put away. 

"I left the clothes in the bathroom," Kanda said. Link glanced over his shoulder and nodded, placing the last dish up. 

Kanda stepped aside as Link passed, pointedly looking away from what showed above Link's collar.

He idly followed Link down the hall and waited as Link changed. Link briefly ran the tap before shutting it off. Kanda could just faintly hear clothes rustling and Link saying something, but soon enough the door opened.

There was something strangely, namelessly exhilarating about seeing Link in his clothes. Maybe it had something to do with the way he collar of his shirt, a shade too large, dipped down to reveal the full expanse of his collarbones, gorgeously flushed with the fierce proof of Kanda's earlier attentions. Something hot and possessive burned low in Kanda's stomach, some part of him that took sick pleasure in seeing Link so thoroughly marked.  _Claimed_. 

All Kanda had to do was reach out, grasp the edge of that collar, and tug it away, kiss the hickies bared there until Link was gasping in his arms again, bodies seamlessly pressed together, the taste of Link's skin on Kanda's tongue again. It would be so easy to pull Kanda's shirt off Link, or maybe leave it on as he slowly fucked him.  _That_ was an image that wouldn't be leaving any time soon.

Link's hand passed over his mouth, ripping Kanda from his thoughts as he gestured vaguely towards it. "Kanda, you wouldn't happen to have another toothbrush, would you?"

Kanda wondered what his own name would sound like, the shape it would take in Link's moans, how loud it would be, if Link would stutter on it or say it clearly.

"No," Kanda said, voice low. He cleared his throat. "I don't. Is that all?"

Link blinked, as if taken aback. "Uh... yes." He considered Kanda, and the slow drag of his gaze down and up Kanda's body felt far more sensual than Link surely intended. "Good night, Kanda."

"Yeah," Kanda said, stepping back and towards his room. "Yeah. Night."

That night, surrounded by sheets imprinted with the scent of Link's skin, all Kanda could see was Link's back, his eyes, the shape of his hands on his own skin, the kisses surely bruising on Link's chest overnight. The sound of Kanda's name in Link's voice, that voice rising and falling as Link's back arched into a moan Kanda couldn't forget if he tried.

He turned his face into his pillow and tried to remember what it was like to fall asleep without thoughts of without dreaming of someone else's hands, someone else's lips, someone else's love.

 

* * *

 

Link didn't think he had a chance of falling asleep at all that night, but at some point he had since he woke up to the sound of Kanda's shower running.

He lay on the couch, hands folded on his stomach over the sheets Kanda had given him for the night, and stared at the dark ceiling, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. He wasn't a slow waker, but he was a bit groggy, lack of sleep definitely not helping. 

Link laid there long enough that Kanda finished. At the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, he lifted himself onto one elbow, watching with sleepy eyes as Kanda stepped through, a towel wrapped around his waist. His long hair was still wet, giving it a dark shine as it stuck to his neck and back, his slick body exposed to the open air. Displayed proudly on his chest was the jagged designs of his tattoo, mercilessly sharp against his skin. It reminded Link of his, and of course of Allen, who had held his hand one day and said 'You'd look great with a tattoo, you know?'

Thoughts of Allen aside, Kanda looked more relaxed, somehow. Like maybe the warmth of the shower had melted some of the tension from his bones, giving him an easy, pliant look. A little less sharp, a little more inviting. Touchable, really. Sort of like the way Allen looked when he'd just woken up, all soft eyes and slow, easy movements.

Suddenly, Link found he wasn't so tired anymore.

Kanda met his wide gaze and gestured over his shoulder. "Shower's open if you want it."

"Right," Link responded vaguely, voice still rough with sleep. He dropped his head back down onto the couch quickly, eager to avoid Kanda's eyes— and more pressingly, conceal his own blatant, poor-disguised staring.

Unconsciously, he brought his hand to his neck, absently tracing one of the marks Kanda had left the day before, finding that it felt as raw and pronounced as ever. He wasn't sure how to feel about the fact, whether he ought to feel distressed or  _pleased_.

It had been nearly impossible to chase away the lingering sensations, not to mention the images. The fall of Kanda's dark hair as he bent down, kissing down Link's chest, the slide of his hands, the tight pull on his hair, the press of Kanda's thigh on his erection and how, for just a moment, Link had been prepared to lose himself under Kanda's kisses and touch. 

Link had the feeling it had followed him even into his dreams, but he'd woken so startled he couldn't recall them.

Just remembering them even now, and the dark look in Kanda's eyes when Link had stepped out of the bathroom, left Link hot and hyperaware that Kanda was just in the kitchen, nosing around in his fridge.

Sitting up, Link immediately glanced down at his open collar. Curiously, he still felt detached seeing them. The living room was still dark, so he couldn't see much, but he had long since memorized where they were. He traced the edge of his collar, knowing that beneath it all was a bruised map of Kanda's lingering kisses.

Kanda closed the refrigerator, snapping Link from his daze. He stood sharply, grasping the sheet to snap free of dust and fold briskly, laying it on top the pillow he'd slept on.

He hesitated then, grasping the hem of his shirt. He was loathe to shower and then change into his clothes from yesterday again, but he wasn't sure if Kanda would be willing to share another pair. Hopefully, he could head home immediately after showering for a proper change of clothes— though the idea of Tokusa catching even the barest glance of the marks Kanda left had him dizzy with mortified dread. 

He decided to shelve that thought for the time being, gathering his clothes in one arm and lifting himself off the couch. He wasn't quite used to falling asleep on any surface other than his own mattress, and the rough and somewhat unyielding cushions of the couch had left him with a sensation of somewhat unpleasant soreness, though Kanda had certainly done his best to make it inviting, fitting it with a sheet and extra pillows. Regardless, Link would be glad to wash the sensation from his skin under the spray of the shower. With any luck, he might be similarly cleansed of the phantom sensation of Kanda's hands and mouth and hard, wanting body.

Or maybe not.

This entire mess, Link decided as he pressed into the bathroom, catching the ghost of his reflection in the mirror opposite, was getting quite out of hand.

Avoiding his reflection entirely, he twisted the shower handle briskly. The shower head sputtered to life, filling the room with hot clouds of steam that curled over Link's skin. He undressed quickly, tearing Kanda's loaned shirt off over his head, scent indistinct now that Link had worn it all night. Or maybe it had rubbed off on Link, embedded in his skin.

He folded the clothes and set them aside, hissing at the first touch of hot water. He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale. He reached out to brace one hand against the bathroom wall, tilting his head forwards slightly to allow the warm water to rise over his neck and back.

The walls were still wet from Kanda's shower, and when Link's hand passed over it the water lingering there was cold to touch. Kanda only had shampoo and body wash, and while it wasn't the first time Link had showered at someone else's place, it was the first time he felt so strongly affected by it. Just moments before Kanda had stood here, water running rivulets down his skin, curving over his muscles, catching in his lashes. Link could imagine the feel of Kanda's strong hands, lathering soap to run over his arms, his chest, down, down, down. Link's hands mimicked that same path, just tracing the feel of hot water. 

The entire night Link had forcibly turned his thoughts away from what had happened, afraid of his own reaction, but now when he was finally alone, he couldn't ignore them anymore. It was impossible to, not with Kanda blatantly walking around almost naked, skin glistening wet, standing in the same shower he had been in, the curling steam coiling around him, surrounding him with the smell of Kanda's body wash, the images of his wet body, pressed against Link's.

Slowly, his hands ghosted down over his own body, fingers gliding down over every bite and bruise with a tremulous, hesitant awe. His fingers caught over one, dangerous low over the slate of his stomach. He flushed at the memory of Kanda's lips travelling over his skin. Forgetting that would be impossible. Unthinkable.

Link had never felt so  _worshipped_ in all his life.

Link could almost feel ashamed for how completely pliant he'd become under Kanda's attentive kisses and touches, but he couldn't. He couldn't even lie and say that, had he known what was going to happen at the beginning of it all, he would've stopped it from the very start. It was impossible. Not now. Now, that he knew how tender Kanda could be, how considerate, how careful. 

It was impossible not to think about what could have happened, too. Still enveloped in Kanda's scent, Link let out a shaky breath, allowing his mind to wander.

He wondered how Kanda would have touched him if he'd undressed him further, hands sliding down from Link's chest to busy themselves with the zipper of Link's pants. Maybe then, Link would've had a chance to pull Kanda's clothes from him, too, shirt sliding off to give Link free reign of Kanda's body, warm and strong curiously marked by that dark, winding tattoo. Link would've liked to trace over that pattern with the flat of his tongue, stopping only when Kanda pinned him back down and reclaimed his lips in a fierce, bruising kiss.

Link wrapped one hand around his cock, holding back a soft sound at the sensation. He stroked once, an almost unconscious motion, the glide made quicker and easier by the stream of warm water flowing over his body. Would Kanda be able to hear him over the steady stream of the shower if he moaned out loud? Half of him burned in shame at the very thought. Another half, quiet but inexplicably insidious, found he was hoping for it.

Link wanted Kanda. He wanted him, wanted his hands and teeth and mouth and softly-spoken words, and it was driving him insane.

He worked over his cock with one hand, thinking of how Kanda might have jerked him, rough and controlling but captivating in his every movement. He thought of Kanda fucking him, right up against the wall with Kanda's chest pressing hard into the ravaged expanse of Links back, Kanda's cock working him raw as Link gasped and writhed,  _helpless_.

When he heard his own moans he smothered them with a hand, lips closing over the flesh of his fingers to muffle the soft grunts and pants.

He thought of Kanda's voice, deep and level and so very sure. Kanda really didn't lie, honest to a fault — everything he said was the truth, was what he really meant. Kanda thrusting deep into him, until Link was moaning on each one, and Kanda whispering, murmuring into Link's neck and shoulders and back,  _you're so hot, you sound so good, no one could replace you, you just want me to fuck you, don't you?_

_Yes, yes, yes, yes._

Kanda's body crowding against his, teeth nipping on his collarbone, hands holding Link's stomach, rubbing his leaking cock, holding Link so closely he could feel the hitch of Kanda's breath, hear his muted groans, hear his own name in Kanda's voice, an endless litany.

But, instead of Kanda, it was Allen, softer, sweeter, moaning his name,  _Link, Link, Link,_  until every pump of his hand matched Allen's shameless moans. 

Allen, with his sly glances and teasing touches, the shameless way he always trailed his fingers down Link's arm, that damning flush creeping up his cheeks, illuminating the grey of his eyes. Always, Link had seen him, laying coy and waiting, legs spread, murmuring _Link, Link, you're so hot, please, please fuck me_  until Link ran his hands down the inside of Allen's thighs, the phantom touch of Kanda's fingers down his own, the sound of Allen's moans mimicking the ones Link muffled against his hand. 

It was all too much and too confusing and so overwhelming, building inside of Link until he forgot where he was, that he should be quiet, that Kanda could hear him at any moment. 

Link came with a sharp, barely cut-off gasp. He leaned hard against the shower wall, shuddering through his orgasm as he spent over his fist, come slipping through his fingers with the unending fall of the water.

For a long moment afterwards, he could do nothing but support himself, the anxious whirring of his mind momentarily silenced by the hazy, temporary afterglow. The hand that had been previously covering his mouth slipped away to hold himself still against the shower wall. Without even thinking, he used the other to trace up his body from his sternum to his throat. He aligned his fingers with the bruises.

He knew where they were; he could feel the heat of them and see Kanda in his mind’s eye, covering Link from the suprasternal notch to the ridge of his jaw. Leaning heavily against the wall, he fought to gather his breath, frozen between the intangible image of Allen's hand joining Link's on his cock and the real, physical memory of Kanda claiming his body.

Something was wrong with him. That was the only explanation. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and there was nothing he could do but correct it before it went any further.

Correcting it... the ideal route to take would be to call off this pretense between them. It had already gone too far, had long since gone too far. Link should've put a stop to all this before he'd ever known how attentive Kanda could be, or how quietly contemplative, how much his anger was just a facade, or even the feel of his hands and lips. Before the touching, the holding, the pictures, or ever meeting kind Tiedoll, who took Link under his wing and was more than ready to welcome Link to his family. 

Link thought he could handle anything that might come from this, but he had never taken the time to get to know Kanda and recognize the integrity and honor there. That steady trust. The way he could be genuinely sweet, if you knew where to look—in a warm cup of tea, an outstretched hand, or his curious dedication to Link's pleasure.

And while Link could acknowledge he'd come to enjoy Kanda's kindness, maybe even crave it, the facts were very much the same. There was no room in Kanda's life for Link. Not in this respect, not in any real, permanent way.

There wasn't supposed to be room in Link's life for Kanda, either.

He turned his face to the steady stream of water and scrubbed his face briskly, forcibly shaking off the thoughts. He'd spent much longer in this shower than he had intended to, and it was time to actually wash himself. 

The scent of Kanda's shampoo intensified as Link lathered it into his hair, closing his eyes as he finally washed it all down the drain. He washed himself quickly and efficiently, now strangely embarrassed to linger over any one spot longer than was absolutely necessary, minimizing the process to only a few brief minutes. Once finished, he yank the handle and turned the water off. The spray above him sputtered to a halt.

He squeezed the excess water out, toweling his wet hair off. With the pass of the towel over his body, he half expected all those marks to disappear too, washed and scrubbed away with the rest of the evidence. They remained, alarmingly obvious beside the white towel. He looked away, intent on ignoring them. They'd go away eventually.

He reached for his clothing hastily, pulling his boxers on and buttoning his shirt up over his body. There was something distasteful about putting on yesterday's clothing, and in retrospect, he should've asked Kanda if he could borrow his washing machine before getting changed the night before. Of course, at the moment, clean clothing had been the furthest thing from his mind, so he couldn't really fault himself for not having acted on it while it was still relevant.

At least with his own clothing, his shirt fit him right. Buttoned properly, it hid most of the marks from view, and with his hair down it was even less obvious. It was reassuring. Like this, he could almost pretend nothing had happened between the two of them. Almost.

Dressed, he glanced at the fogged mirror. He took a corner of the towel and wiped most of the steam away, studying his reflection. Did it show? Did any of his thoughts, his actions, show on his face or his body? It was a stupid idea to be worried about, but the thought persisted that Link's guilt was clearly displayed for all to see; a mark more immediate and more damning than any kiss or bruise.

He looked as normal as he ever did. He combed through his bangs, laying them straight, and it wasn't until he was already opening the door that he head Kanda talking.

And then, as he stepped out into the hall and glanced towards the front door, he heard Allen's laughter, clear as day. 

 

* * *

 

Allen wasn't entirely sure why he threw those parties.

It always seemed like a good idea when he invited everyone, but he always found himself tired halfway through, wondering when, exactly, they'd all leave. He enjoyed it and he genuinely laughed, but always at three am he sat on his couch, cigarette in hand and apartment deserted, and think,  _why do I bother?_

He always cleaned every inch of it before the sun came up, disposing of bottles and food and sweeping it all away. He slept for maybe a few hours and by brunch was laughing with Lenalee, Lavi, and Kanda.

Then Lavi would be ribbing him, always quick with a sly quip or joke, Lenalee sighing at his antics with all the poise and sensibility that made her Lenalee. Kanda, blue eyes a little bleary from sleeplessness and the morning's hangover, murmuring some snide aside without once taking his eyes off of Allen. Leaning over his breakfast, Allen would then recall the way Kanda stared at him all night from across the dance floor, eyes so hot and dark and intimate despite the crowded room between them. At the table, his phone would buzz, screen coming to life with a warm thanks from Link, sometimes accompanied by a picture or future promises of lunch.

And then, it became all too easy to remember why he bothered.

The hassle was nothing in exchange for the reassuring reminder that he wasn't alone. That he didn't  _have_ to be alone. Not anymore.

He had his daily runs with Kanda, ate lunch frequently with Link, met Lavi and Lenalee often on weekends, and worked his own job on weekdays. It had become painfully routine, the kind of complacency that lulled you into a sense of peace. He started living his life around these little routines, developed an almost fierce need to continue it all, relentlessly.

He threw the parties, he invited everyone, he cleaned and he smoked, and he went to brunch. He saw his friends and he went home, sleeping fitfully and waking up eager nonetheless.

That routine abruptly and without notice crashed and burned as Allen watched Link pull Kanda close into a kiss so fiercely passionate it took Allen's own breath away to watch, heart stuttering in his own chest and fingers flexing on the neck of a beer bottle he hadn't taken a single sip of.

It was like he was spellbound, watching the powerful arch of Kanda's back as he pushed Link further into the wall, saw the very tattoo Allen had given Link mix with strands of Kanda's hair as Link eagerly accepted and reciprocated.

Allen prepared for a great deal to go wrong in his life. He had a savings account of a sizeable inheritance he hadn't touched since the day Mana died, and still kept most of his belongings packed off a nagging fear that Cross would mysteriously reappear and whisk him away again, to another country and home he'd stay at for a few months before leaving again and again. He never used cards, never made promises he couldn't keep, and frequently made sure that if he needed to, he could leave at the drop of a dime.

But months had passed and turned into years and Cross never came again. In a way, Allen vaguely understood that Cross' job was done. Allen had grown up and become self-sufficient and had built his own life. There was no disappearing or leaving or rebuilding to be done.

He got used to his job and to his routines and to his friends and then, slowly, hesitantly, began to even consider what falling in love might be like.

Not the superficial one night stands or the whirlwind summer romances that came and went just as quickly, but something meant to last, something that you built your life around and expected to stay.

And when he had those sleepless nights, lingering over the one habit he had kept from Cross (the only one he'd willingly acknowledge, always ignoring those boxes still carefully packed in his room, the painful sterility of a home he'd lived in for well over a year now), he thought of dark eyes, kind gestures, flashes of a tiny smile, as if shy. Even like this, it was a wonder, a miracle, that he had a choice to be torn.

He couldn't exactly pinpoint where it started. One day, his jokes and teasing turned into something real. What he knew clearly and with startling clarity was that he was in love. It was hard to miss, when just a slant of his eyes left Allen's heart beating a staccato rhythm, something he hid with easy smiles and lies that covered just how deeply he felt.

What was worse, though, was that his feelings weren't one-sided. If they were, it would have been so much easier to ignore, or pass over, or pretend they simply didn't exist.

There were countless little incidents he remembered vividly, imprinted on his memory and in his dreams. Little tiny mistakes that grew and grew until he began building castles in his heart on top them.

What hurt even more were that it was all so recent, so fresh in memory that not even a week before that fateful party Allen could recall them, still.

Despite knowing he couldn't separate or deny or change his feelings, he never made an effort to put a stop to them. He still saw them all the time, several days a week even. 

It felt like they gave Allen tiny bits of themselves, little secrets shared with Allen only. 

_Kanda's abrasive mouth hid hands so gentle it made Allen's heart ache._

_When Allen closed his eyes he could still feel the searing heat of the summer sun, so intense it made him dizzy. On one of their jogs, he had stumbled over a rock and winced as his ankle bent wrong, and before Allen could even straighten Kanda was beside him, holding his shoulder and examining his face, searching Allen's eyes. More than the sudden pain, Allen was startled by the intent focus in Kanda's gaze, looking Allen over before abruptly kneeling._

_He was painstakingly gentle as he rolled up the cuff of Allen's pants, fingertips amazingly cool as they ghosted over the already reddening swell of Allen's ankle._

_Kanda's lips pursed, and he made that little clicking sound with his tongue when he found something displeasing. It made Allen grin, and Kanda's scowl deepened when he looked and found Allen's expression._

_"You idiot," Kanda said, scathing as always. "If the sun was getting to you, why didn't you say anything?"_

_Allen shrugged, glancing away as Kanda stood straight. "It didn't really hit me that it was because of the sun."_

_Kanda clicked his tongue dismissively again, but before Allen could retort he was grabbing Allen's wrist, pulling Allen's arm over his shoulder to support him. Kanda led Allen to a nearby bench, lowering him carefully._

_Something unspeakable swelled in Allen's heart then when Kanda kneeled in the dust and dirt again, fingers hovering so hesitantly over Allen's ankle he could swear Kanda was afraid to touch him at all._

_It was something Allen had known already, but like this, it really showed. Kanda was harsh and honest in his words, but when it came to it, he always touched Allen assuredly, gently, wholly._

_Kanda's thumb rested on the front of his ankle, his fingers loosely curling around, lingering, and Allen shifted, already smiling when he drew his knee up under the pretense of examining the sprain himself._

If that had been it, maybe things would have been easier. He could've just accepted what Kanda offered in his brusque but seeking touches.

It was a lot less simple when he saw Link just as frequently, escaping the loneliness of his shop when traffic waned around midday. The tender look Link gave him when he saw Allen left butterflies in his stomach. There was nothing quite like seeing someone light up at the sight of you. It left Allen feeling inexplicably wanted, desired, cherished, as if seeing Allen was the highlight of Link's day.

_"Admit it," Allen said, leaning against the table with a sigh. Their waiter passed by, refilling their glasses of water without a word. Allen didn't bat an eye, not pulling his gaze away from Link for even a moment. "You're doing the work of at least three people."_

_"I like keeping busy," Link said defensively. He was looking down at the table, feigning interest in his napkin in a bid to avoid the accusation in Allen's stare. "So long as the work gets done, what does it matter?"_

_Allen raised his eyebrows, unhappy with this answer._

_"They're working you into the ground, Link. You don't think that matters?"_

_"I'm fine," Link shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He seemed slightly bewildered, as though it came as something of a surprise to him that Allen even cared. Which was stupid. Of course he cared. Cared far too much, as it was._

_Link's eyes flickered up from the table to meet Allen's steady gaze, expression almost unbearably soft as he shifted his focus to Allen. "You're the one who needs to take better care of himself, really," Link continued, insistent._

_For someone so intelligent, Link could be surprisingly stupid sometimes. Really._

_On an impulse, Allen found himself reaching over the table for Link's right hand. Link's eyes widened slightly at that, the first shock of skin on skin._

_"Don't be stubborn," Allen said, speaking on the tail end of a sigh. "It doesn't suit you."_

_He liked that Link was hard-working, sure. He liked it a lot. But that didn't mean he didn't want more for Link— or long to see Link finally cut loose and relax a little. He wanted to take care of Link, though he wasn't entirely certain how._

_Silent in his frustration, Allen turned Link's hand over slowly, mesmerized the slender shape of it with the wordless fascination of a child. Link had beautiful hands. Long, cold, pale as marble— the hands of an artist._

_Allen found himself grazing over Link's knuckles, the crisscross pattern of lines across his palms, the smudge of ink caught at the base of his thumb. Link didn't resist, not for a moment, submitting to Allen's curiosities without a breath of protestation._

_"You have fantastic hands," Allen said, idle, but completely without guile. His fingers wandered slowly over the curve of Link's wrist, testing the thrumming pulse of blue veins. "You'd look great with a tattoo, you know?"_

_He looked back up earnestly, eager to push the thought, but something in Link's expression stopped him dead in his tracks. He realized, then, what exactly he was doing. How the mood had subtly changed. Allen froze, not quite dropping Link's hand, but all at once ceasing his sensual exploration of it._

_Link stared at him, something nameless and delicate suspended in his wide-eyed gaze, mouth parted to make way for the words that could not come._

_Not knowing what else to do, Allen let out a laugh. Regretting his thoughtlessness almost immediately, he pulled his hands away from Link's, thinking of some playful comment he might use to change tracks, but Link leaned after him, reaching back over the table to reclaim Allen's hand. He intertwined their fingers— perfectly, beautifully, unbearably gentle._

_Link asked, "What kind of tattoo?_

In the end, he hesitated too long.

Everything Allen wanted but could never accept, because inevitably, the moment he almost reached back, he couldn't help but think of the other. How could he accept one and give up another love?

It wasn't a matter of picking or choosing, of deciding which of them he wanted more. The very idea was unthinkable. He loved Kanda, and he loved Link. He loved the both of them in a way that was complete and real _—_ needed the both of them. Kanda's gentle hands, Link's soft, silent eyes. It would be dishonest, choosing only one of them. Dishonest when he could help but love, love, love the both of them.

Little promises, little gestures, a shy smile, a lingering touch, drawing away and still being chased after — all of that brutally crashed, those hopeful daydreams and vague hopes and ideas burned into the smoke from his cigarette as Kanda took Link's hand in his and said with all the confidence and honesty he so admired that Link was his boyfriend.

It felt so sudden, that he almost couldn't believe it. He hadn't seen it coming at all. Allen prided himself on being perceptive and on reading others well. Their relationship blindsided him, made him doubt every interaction he'd had with them. If he had missed this, this very real love Kanda and Link had for each other, what else had he missed?

Or worse, what else had he read too much into?

Self-doubt was an ugly downwards spiral that stained every memory Allen held dear of them. Had they ever really been interested, or had he projected his own desperate craving for love and acceptance onto them? When Kanda's hand had reached out to examine Allen's sprained ankle, touch so light and so hesitant, as if Allen was something to be treated delicately, had that really been anything more than friendly concern? When Link had blinked brightly and reached back for Allen's hand, accepting the wild proposition of a tattoo with such blind, devoted promise, had he really been doing anything more than humoring one of Allen's stupider whims?

It had been ridiculous, really, to think even one of them loved him. Plain selfish to assume they both would.

As if Allen had done anything to deserve such a thing.

After a lot of petty jealousy and some seriously embarrassing texts, Allen realized that he was being a horrible friend to them. Shouldn't he be happy? Teasing them, encouraging them, being there for them? Asking embarrassing questions like Lavi or sweet ones like Lenalee, making jokes about how often Link was with Kanda? 

It wasn't that he let go of his love for Kanda and Link, because he didn't think even a year from now it'd be any less than it was at that very moment, staring at Link's Instagram and seeing their joined hands, but that he chose to... accept it.

In a way, he  _was_ happy for them. Kanda and Link deserved to be loved and treated right, fairly, and not with the lukewarm responses Allen had always defaulted to.

It was with that resolve in mind that he decided to drop by Kanda's that morning to return a sweater of his he'd been holding onto for far too long now.

Really, Allen could have given it back any number of times. When Kanda showed up at his parties, or at brunch, or on their frequent runs together, and all the number of times he saw Kanda, but the sweater had stayed in his bedroom at the foot of his bed for months.

It was a soft gray thing, a few sizes too big for Allen, but warm all the same. It had been weeks since Kanda's scent had faded from the fabric, but all the same, he liked wearing it. Allen had fallen asleep wearing it a handful of times, until he couldn't remember what it used to smell like before. Kanda's cologne, he was sure. Maybe a little like his home. As it was, returning this sweater was a step towards letting go of what could have been. It wasn't fair to Kanda or Link to hold onto it with the feelings he had.

Outside Kanda's apartment, he took a deep steadying breath, sweater folded carefully over one arm, smelling of nothing but laundry detergent, and knocked.

He waited outside the door, inexplicably nervous as he caught the sound of movement inside. Slowly, the sound of footsteps grew louder, padding closer and closer to the door until the chain lock was sliding open and the door cracked open.

Kanda's hair was wet, ends curling damply against his neck and back. He was wearing it down, something that came as a surprise to Allen, who'd rarely had the chance to see it outside Kanda's more typical ponytail style. There was something striking about the way it fell down over his shoulders, long and dark and silky.

With his hair pulled back, it sharpened the look in Kanda's eyes, emphasizing his cheekbones and the cut of his jaw into something intimidating when you first caught glance of him. Down, however, it hid all that, framing his eyes and softening his expressions, hair wispy and soft.

At the sight of Allen, Kanda looked taken aback. He blinked, bracing against the doorknob with one hand as his eyes slowly tracked their way up and down Allen's body, just taking him in.

Allen offered a smile, attempting to hide the way he memorized the way Kanda looked, then.

Kanda's lips pursed, not exactly a displeased look but certainly something interesting as a reaction. "What are you doing here?"

"To return this," Allen said, pointing to the gray sweater. "I was doing laundry and saw this in one of my drawers — completely forgot to return it."

Kanda stared at it blankly, accepting it when Allen offered it. He shook it loose and scowled when it came out smaller than his frame. "You fucking shrunk it."

No wonder it had been fitting so snugly. "My bad? Want me to buy you another?"

Kanda dismissively shook his head, folding it over his arm and focusing on Allen again. "Is that all you came for? You could've just gave it back on Monday at the park."

The moment he'd given up sleep that morning and saw Kanda's sweater still at the foot of his bed was when he knew he'd have to return it right then and there or he'd lose the resolve to do it later. That was the honest truth.

There was no way he could possibly admit to it out loud, though.

Instead, he carded his hair back with one hand and forced a laugh. Kanda frowned, apparently not put at ease by Allen's smile.

"I guess I just kind of wanted to see you," Allen said. He dropped his hand to his side, looking at Kanda directly now. "Is that so crazy?"

Kanda paused. He leaned against the doorframe heavily, his loose hair falling over face as he moved, still watching Allen with a focus that was so unerring that it was almost unnerving. He worried at his lower lip with his teeth, brows drawn thin into a slight frown. 

Then, he let out a sigh that was only partly a scowl, tension easing from his shoulders as he rose to full height, fingers trailing against the wooden frame of the door as he moved.

"Not... too crazy," he said, and although he wasn't quite smiling, his expression had relaxed into something softer, kinder. Allen realized just then that Kanda was actually pleased to see him. It was a simple thing, and as friends, it should have been practically a given, but Allen found his stomach twisting into warm, delirious knots all the same. 

Every movement Kanda made sent his hair drifting over his shoulders, or shifting against his cheeks, and Allen rubbed his fingertips together subtly, imagining what it might feel like if he just reached out and brushed it away from Kanda's temple.

He thought about mentioning how different it made Kanda look, but figured he wouldn't appreciate it. He thought, stupidly, about asking if Kanda liked Link's hair, but it felt ridiculous.

He realized a moment too late that they'd been standing there saying nothing. Grasping at straws, he said, "Lenalee canceled brunch. She came down with something, and Lavi suggested we just put it off until next week." When Kanda rolled his eyes in response, Allen continued. "I was thinking I'd swing by later, since Komui can't drop by until late evening. She never says it, but I think she hates being alone when she's sick, but I guess that's kind of normal, huh?"

"She has a brother," Kanda said, "who can take care of her when she's sick. What are you going to do if you catch what she has?"

A good point, really, since Allen was the only who was pretty much alone. They all had roommates or family nearby. Allen had neither.

"I'll be fine," Allen said, laughing lightly. "It's just a cold. I'd feel worse knowing Lenalee was alone. That's a terrible feeling, being sick and all alone."

Kanda's expression changed again, back to that soft look. It wasn't that Kanda smiled or changed anything obvious, but it was the way everything about him softened, brow relaxing, mouth lax from that perpetual frown. Paired with his free, damp hair, he had a sort of sleepy vulnerability to him that was surprisingly refreshing. Distantly, Allen wondered what Kanda looked like after he'd just woken up. 

"Walker?"

Stilling, Allen looked over Kanda's shoulder and found Link, eyes wide with surprise. 

The first thing he noticed was that Link had just stepped out of the shower, his blond hair looking darker when wet, something Allen had never seen before. It felt horribly like that the first time he'd seen them kiss, staring at the bits of Link he could see beyond Kanda's possessive hold. 

Dimly, he was aware he said something, maybe a soft exclamation, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Link, trailing the loose ends of his blond hair where it curled around his collarbone, perfectly framing the hickies blooming there. They were so obvious, Allen would've felt shocked Link wasn't trying to hide them if he wasn't feeling numb as it was.

For a long moment, Allen could do nothing but stare, unable to do anything but stand and take in each separate element of evidence— the way Link's clothes were sloppily rumpled and unkempt, the way his wet hair was a perfect match to Kanda's, the bruises and kiss marks that trailed down his neck and shoulders before disappearing down into the collar of his shirt. Allen could feel himself flushing, the bright, warm moment of intimacy with Kanda popping like a soap bubble, leaving him feeling horribly cold and awkward.

Suddenly, he realized that he was intruding on something highly private— this was Link and Kanda's morning to spend together, wasn't it? This had nothing to do with him.

Funny. Of course, he'd already known that things between Link and Kanda had progressed towards the... physical end of things. All the same, seeing such damning, undeniable proof was more overwhelming than he ever could have anticipated.

Most overwhelming of all was the fact they both looked so fucking beautiful together.

"Oh," Allen said, mostly just to fill silence. He forced himself back to reality, offering a bright smile in way of real eye contact. "I didn't realize you were here too, Link. Did you stay the night?"

He didn't even know why he'd bothered to ask. Of  _course_ Link had stayed the night. Could there really be any doubting it?

Link's face twisted, as if embarrassed, but the heat of the shower had left his skin still warm and tinged pink. He looked absolutely debauched, and Allen wondered if the reason Kanda looked so lax was because they'd clearly worked off some steam a few minutes prior?

"...Yes," Link said quietly, hand drifting up to his collar as if to hide what showed. He dropped his hand though, instead moving closer to stand just beside Kanda. "I didn't know you'd be visiting."

"It was kind of a spur of the moment thing," Allen said, voice coming out all high and breathy. He cleared his throat before continuing, now making a solid effort to get a handle on his emotions as he took a step back. "I should probably get going now, huh—"

"Wait," Link said immediately, sounding strangely panicked, and at the same time, Kanda straightened up to cut Allen off with a sharp, "No, don't."

Allen paused, gaze switching between the two of them as Kanda and Link both shared a look.

Link spoke first, slowly, as if Kanda or Allen might stop him at any second. "I was just about to start breakfast... I'd love to have you join us—so long as it's alright with Kanda, of course."

"I don't mind," Kanda said. For a moment, Allen even thought he looked a little relieved. Then, a wall came down over his expression, the same sharp scowl that Allen had come to know and love him for. He held the door open a little wider, inviting Allen in. "So, enough standing around. Get in here."

Allen hesitated, staring at the threshold. It felt impossibly significant in a way he didn't understand or even remotely begin to reason, but the moment passed and he stepped forward, passing by Kanda and Link, both of them still so fresh from the shower that just being near them he could feel the lingering warmth.

The instant Kanda shut the door Link turned sharply on his heel away from Allen, making a beeline for the kitchen. Allen would've been inclined to feel offended if Link didn't glance over his shoulder, waiting on Allen. Kanda shoved Allen, not entirely unkindly, pushing him forward, and between both their easy acceptance and encouragement, Allen finally felt at ease.

Allen followed Link into the kitchen, propping himself up to sit on the countertop as he watched Link bustle about, rifling through the fridge for eggs, bacon, and butter. Kanda frowned, but didn't say anything to stop Allen, which was just as good as permission.

Kanda rifled through a cabinet instead, pulling out a few pans for Link to use, shooting Allen a scowl when he started bouncing his heels against the cabinets. "I already ate, actually, but I could really go for another round," Allen said, voice growing a bit louder when Link shifted the pans around.

"You're going to eat all my goddamn food," Kanda said, dismayed. 

"A small price to pay for the pleasure of my company," Allen grinned, feeling more self-assured by the second. He nodded towards Link as he flipped the stove burner on. "Isn't that right?"

"Eat as much as you like," Link agreed, setting a frying pan on the stovetop and reaching for a spatula. He paused, hand hovering over empty space, and sent Kanda a beseeching look. Rolling his eyes, Kanda moved to another drawer and pulled one out, passing it over. "I'm not the one paying for the food, after all."

"You two are the worst," Kanda sighed, folding his arms one over the other.

Link hummed an agreement lost under the sizzle of melting butter, Allen leaning over eagerly. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything he could eat raw, but Kanda had a loaf of bread by the stove that he swiftly opened, eating a slice before Kanda noticed.

As Allen finished off a second slice, he turned to find Kanda setting up a coffee pot, measuring out grounds. The rich aroma combined with the overwhelming growing scent of butter left Allen's stomach grumbling. He polished the bread off and reached over to grab an egg from the carton, promptly cracking it into the pan.

"I wasn't quite ready for that," Link mumbled, but broke the yolk anyways, gesturing vaguely for Allen to crack another. He balanced awkwardly, chest twisting as he used to hands to break the eggs. 

"Do you do all the cooking?" Allen asked Link, reaching back into the carton for another egg. He cracked it gently against the edge of the pan, most of his concentration going into making sure none of the shell slipped in.

"Not all of it," Link said after a brief pause, speaking over the pleasant sizzle of butter and eggs. He reached for the bacon, dropping it into the pan to cook on the side. "Kanda made dinner last night." At his name, Kanda moved forward, reaching for the cabinet just by Allen's head and beside the stove to rifle through, procuring a few spices he set down for Link's use.

"Did he really?" Allen's lips quirked into a smile. He raised an eyebrow, turning to glance at Kanda. "Wow. Sorry about that."

"What do you mean by  _sorry_?" Kanda said, sounding genuinely offended as he turned to face Allen. "I'm not a bad cook, you know."

"Well, not bad, no," Allen agreed. "But not exactly a good one, either."

"Don't antagonize him," Link murmured, not taking his eyes off the pan for a moment as he nudged the cooking eggs with the tip of his spatula, testing their consistency. "He has a delicate ego."

"I'm gonna kick  _both_ your asses," Kanda announced, leaving the percolating coffee to grab mugs. They were disappointingly bland, no cute pictures or funny words like Lenalee's or Lavi's, or even Allen's. He wondered if Link's were different, though living with Tokusa probably guaranteed that.

"Plates?" Link asked, still entirely focused on what he was doing, though Allen was fairly sure eggs and bacon didn't require that much attention.

Wordlessly, Kanda retrieved three, stacking them on the side of the stove Allen wasn't on. With nothing to do, Allen rested his weight on his arms, hands curled around the counter's edge between his knees, feet still idly kicking. It felt... comfortable. More at ease than Allen had been all week, really. It was like nothing had really changed, or rather, it had settled into that routine Allen had come to depend on.

Link slid bacon and eggs on one plate and Allen still reached all the way across the stove to filch a piece of bacon, quickly eating it before Link could take it back. Link just sighed, replacing it and pushing the plates further away.

The sound of liquid pouring caught his ear and Allen glanced over to find Kanda pouring three cups, setting the pot down and arranging the cream and sugar over. Allen couldn't help smiling as Kanda heaped spoonfuls of cream and sugar into Link's, clearly aware of the sweet tooth Link never mentioned but also never hid.

Without asking, Allen hopped off the counter at last, snagging two of the finished mugs from the counter beside Kanda. He carried them over to the kitchen table and set them down, returning to peer over Link's shoulder eagerly. Link stiffened, and for a moment Allen thought he was uncomfortable having Allen so close, but the moment passed as Link met his eye, glancing away towards the plates nearly immediately. Link lifted two plates of food carefully off the counter, and Kanda went to grab the last one, bringing them back to the table so the three of them could settle down and eat their breakfast at last.

Allen turned the burner off and joined them, hesitating when Kanda and Link sat. It was a small round table, clearly meant for Kanda alone since just the two of them left it looking crowded. There was room for a third, but Allen knew the moment he sat they'd be entirely too close.

Allen hesitated a moment too long, and Kanda shot him a glare for it, as if demanding to stop wasting time. If neither of them had noticed, then Allen wouldn't be the one awkwardly pointing it out either. It wouldn't be the first time they had done something that left Allen far too aware of what it could possibly mean. 

Allen took his seat at the table, and instantly his suspicions were confirmed. The table was too small. Too tall, their legs all reached out a little too far underneath, knees bumping and brushing up against one another, leaving Allen feeling both embarrassed and breathlessly aware of the others' proximity to him. There was something strangely intimate about it, about every little knock of their knees, about the way Allen could've easily twined his legs with Kanda's or reached out to caress Link's thigh from under the table if he wanted to. A kind of togetherness.

Perhaps not the most appropriate thoughts he could've had about two of his closest friends. He distracted himself by digging into his food, reaching for his fork and shoving a bite of eggs into his mouth. Link was watching him expectantly, waiting on his reaction.

Allen swallowed hard, turning to face Link.

"It's great," he said enthusiastically. He glanced between Link and Kanda— Link's look of quiet pride, the way his blonde hair was tucked over one shoulder, Kanda's sharp eyes and silent, slowly brimming look of contentment. "It's perfect, actually. Really, everything is perfect."

And in that moment, he really did mean it.

He couldn't remember the last time everything had seemed to fall into place like this, the last time something had felt so perfectly and incandescently  _right_.


	6. Chapter 6

According to research, it was possible to last eleven days without sleep. Three nights without sleep didn't seem to be a really terrible thing in comparison, Link reasoned. It wasn't like he wasn't in bed at all, too.

It was just that lying down and managing to forget everything that had developed over the weekend was an insurmountable task. He had gone home Sunday afternoon, charged his phone, changed into fresh clothes, finished off some work he'd brought home, and come evening found he was still wide awake.

The next three days passed by in a blur. With no other real method of decompressing, Link threw himself back into work, working long hours at the office, punching in early and punching out late. Perhaps not the healthiest coping mechanism, but as long as he was coping at all, Link figured it was better than nothing. Link's supervisor certainly didn't seem to have any complaints. By Tuesday, he'd even stopped by Link's desk to compliment his work ethic, a slice of praise so thrilling that Link was able to forget his troubles for several hours in favor of simply basking in that glow of pride.

By Wednesday morning, the hickies Kanda had left had finally faded. Link felt mostly relieved to see his reflection and find them gone from his neck. He couldn't help but also feel a little... conflicted. He hadn't enjoyed the past several days of covering them up in either high collars or make-up, but he had certainly enjoyed seeming them on himself at the end of the day. The sight of Kanda's kisses and bruises lingering over his neck and collarbone was distracting, to say the least. Blinking back at his reflection, he'd slowly reach up to touch one, memories of Kanda's feverish touch returning to him as he thumbed over each mark.

God. He'd never admit to it out loud, but Kanda was worth losing sleep over.

He punched in at 6 AM on Wednesday with a Starbucks in one hand and his office ID in the other. He dragged himself to his desk, shifting through his files in search of something he could busy himself with. Not that this was a particularly difficult task. There was always something to do, always some document to draft, a request for legal research from one of the senior lawyers, a file to organize, a legal precedent to hunt after, etcetera.

For once, Link was grateful for the seemingly endless mountain of tasks demanding his attention. Busy was good. Busy was ideal. The busier he was, the less time he had to think about Kanda, or Allen, blue eyes or sly smiles or hot kisses or thighs brushing up underneath Kanda's kitchen table...

Link took an abrupt sip of his coffee, not caring that he hardly tasted it.

_Don't let it get to you. Be professional._

Over the past few days, Kanda and Link had exchanged a number of brief texts, but hadn't seen each other at all. It was easy to play the fact off on work, but in all honesty, Link found he'd been avoiding seeing Kanda again. Damage control, as far as he was concerned. Nothing good could come from seeing Kanda now. Not while Link was... in this state of mind.

There was no saying what he'd do if he saw Kanda again. No saying how he might lose control.

And that?

That was  _terrifying_.

Once he was able to collect himself, he'd sort this whole mess out. Correct it, like he'd promised himself he would. It would be easy enough to correct, too, once Link was in the right state to do so. All he had to do was call this off. It'd be quick, simple, painless — a fake break-up with a fake boyfriend. An underwhelming, meaningless end to an equally meaningless relationship.

_How could you ever be a replacement?_

Quite easily, Link thought bitterly. 

The more time that passed, the more clarity Link gained. It was easy to say anything in the heat of the moment, meaningless, thoughtless words. More likely than not, they were just the by-product of a botched attempt to get into Link's pants.

Well. If that had been Kanda's intentions, he'd succeeded. Or he would've, at the very least. If he hadn't suddenly pulled away, for seemingly no reason. Link still didn't know what changed, or why Kanda had stopped. Was it because he suddenly realized that he didn't want Link? Had Link... overreacted?

Really, Link was grateful Kanda had stopped, because at that moment, mind half gone with pleasure and falling apart under Kanda's touch, he would've let Kanda do whatever he wanted.

To make matters worse, instead of leaving Kanda's as soon as we he woke up on Sunday, he'd lingered, working out all his frustrations and pent up energy in the shower and then coming face to face with the very two people who'd been keeping him up since.

Like this, he'd been stuck thinking circles, pushing the thoughts away and focusing on work but, in its absence, returning again and again to that beautiful morning, Allen with his bright smiles on one side and Kanda with his quiet attentive focus on the other.

Sighing, he took another sip of his coffee, still tasting none of it. He couldn't quite remember if he'd even prepared it the right way, but so long as it did its job, he didn't really mind the bitter aftertaste. Idly, he wondered if he should give up the pretense of normalcy and simply switch to energy drinks. It'd certainly accomplish the job faster.

Shaking his head minutely, he blinked to focus on the paperwork in front of him, staring when he couldn't read the lines straight. He attempted to read it, and when that didn't work, drank half of his coffee and shuffled the papers straight, determined to earn his pay.

He supposed it was a sign already that he'd pushed himself too far when he didn't even notice Tewaku walking up to his desk. He was normally much more aware of his surroundings, and the startled jerk he gave when she appeared at his side was more than alarming.

Staring at her face, he felt like he was forgetting something, but he couldn't recall what it was for the life of him. The nagging feeling had followed him the last few days now, but he shook it off.

Tewaku really was a pretty girl, Link thought, staring up at her blankly. Despite her slight build, she had more than enough nerves of steel to stand her ground among co-workers more than willing to sneer down at her. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue, but she was as loyal as her brother. Outside of work, she also had quite the mischievous streak, but not one as severe as Tokusa's.

Maybe it was because of an image she had to uphold at work, but Tewaku was almost as dry and serious as Link was when working. Even her makeup reflected that, lightly glossed lips that moved around words Link realized belatedly he wasn't actually hearing.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Link said. His voice sounded off even to his own ears. Distant. Faraway. It sounded as though it was being played back to him through a particularly tinny set of speakers. That was odd.

Tewaku frowned, clearly worried. It instantly left Link feeling defensive. "I said," she began, stare thoroughly scrutinizing him up and down, "that you look like... well, like shit. Are you doing okay?"

"Okay?" Link repeated slowly, testing out the sound and shape of the word. Formulating words... had become surprisingly difficult. Processing them wasn't much easier. He paused, carefully considering Tewaku's words and how to best follow them up. "I'm doing... perfectly fine."

Tewaku leaned forwards, bracing her hands against the side of Link's desk and raising one eyebrow carefully.

"Are you sure? You look... really, really out of it. Have you been sleeping?"

"I'm doing perfectly fine," Link repeated, which was neither a yes nor a no. He reached for his coffee cup pointedly, as if to prove he still possessed some motor skills. He went to take a sip, then realized it was empty. Huh. When had that happened?

"Okay," Tewaku said slowly, grasping the lid of his cup and gently pulling it away from his hands. She set it back down, and when Link didn't immediately focus on her again, snapped her fingers between them twice. "Link, I say this because we're friends and I love you, but you look like shit. Like, _really._  I haven't seen you look this bad in... ever, actually."

Link scowled, offended. "I said I'm perfectly  _fine,_  Tewaku. I have work to do, and so do you."

"Right," Tewaku said, and she might've snorted derisively if they were anywhere but at work. "You always have work to do." She stepped back from his desk, crossing her arms, "That paper's upside down."

Link looked down, squinted, and brought it closer to his face. She was right. 

"I knew that," he lied. He set it straight, idly rearranging the papers and pens.

"Fine, fine. At least come and join me for lunch — it's nearly noon, and honestly, when was the last time you had a meal?"

Link thought about it, and came to the resolute realization that he had no damn clue.

"Alright," he said reluctantly, sparing a brief glance across his desk materials. "A short lunch, alright?"

"The shortest," Tewaku said agreeably. She gestured for him to stand, and after a moment spent contemplating if he could without getting dizzy, did. 

This, in hindsight, was a miscalculation. He slammed his hands down against the table to steady himself. Maybe not the best way of proving to Tewaku how perfectly fine he was, but at that point, it was lunge for purchase or risk toppling over entirely.

_"Link?"_

"I," Link gritted out, "am super fine."

He closed his eyes for a moment to stop the dizzy spinning, but all it did was disorient him further, and when he tried to straighten up he overbalanced and fell back against his chair.

"Link, I think that you should probably lay down for a bit—"

"Don't be ridiculous, Tewaku. I've never felt better."

Link turned around, aiming to flash a reassuring smile in Tewaku's direction and finally put her silly, misguided worries to bed—

He attempted to stand again, but this time when he pitched forward, he missed his desk entirely. Hard to avoid, of course, seeing as someone had had the smart idea to replace the office floor with pudding. He really ought to leave a strongly worded complaint about that.

Tewaku, all blessed five foot two of her, tried to catch him as he fell. In the end they fell together, with his head more or less on her lap. She really shouldn't have tried, he thought. He was much taller and heavier than her. She could've really gotten hurt, doing a stupid thing like that.

It was hard to be angry, though. It was too hard to be much of anything. It was amazingly comfortable on the floor. Maybe the change wasn't so bad. Tewaku, too, was very comfortable, despite all the yelling and frantic shoulder shaking.

"I've always liked pudding," Link said hazily.

"What the fuck, Link?"

"Oh, I don't know," Link said, and he promptly passed the fuck out.

 

* * *

 

 

Link woke up warm and comfortable, stretching and luxuriating in the feel of soft sheets on his skin. He felt pleasantly heavy, as if he'd done a major workout just prior, or relaxed in a nice bath. He would've settled right back in bed and fallen asleep if he wasn't incredibly thirsty.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the ceiling for a long blissfully thoughtless moment, feeling the beginnings of a headache the longer he focused on the white walls. He felt groggy and slow, so the realization was slow in coming that this wasn't his room, or Tokusa's room, or even his apartment.

He did, however, recognize where he was this time. Closing his eyes, Link took in a deep breath, trying desperately to recall all that had happened. Minutes passed sluggishly before Link registered that he wasn't wearing clothes, either.

This wasn't the first time he'd woken up in Yuu Kanda's bed with no recollection as to how he got there. He had been wearing clothes the first time it happened, though. Link supposed things had really gone downhill ever since then. He tried not to focus on the implications of being in Kanda's bed, warm, pliant, and totally undressed. He focused instead on blinking, on breathing, and on slowly taking in the sights and sensations that were slowly flooding back to him.

Slowly, he sat up, sheets falling to pool around his waist. The warmth of sleep escaped, and with it his own foggy-headed thoughts. He looked around and found Kanda's room to be the same as always. More or less immaculate, except for the gym bag on the floor and a pair of shoes. At the foot of the bed were Link's clothes folded neatly. When Link glanced under the sheets, he sighed in relief to find he still wore at least boxers. The thought of Kanda undressing him was still deeply mortifying, but at least he wasn't completely naked. Oddly enough, his hair was pooling loose and free around his shoulders, freed from the sloppy braid he distinctly remembered twisting it into that same morning. He wondered if Kanda had undone it for him, too. While less outwardly embarrassing, the thought still flustered Link for some reason. He supposed he ought to be grateful. He hated falling asleep with his braid in. It lead to the most awful knots.

The light through the curtains was still bright, enough that Link knew it was early in the day. A quick rifle through his pants pocket procured only a spare hair tie that Link immediately wrapped around his wrist. His phone wasn't anywhere near his clothes, or on the bedside table, or buried anywhere in the sheets. 

Swinging his feet off the bed, Link waited a long anxious moment to see if he'd grow dizzy from the action. His head, if a bit heavy feeling, wasn't floating around freely, and he stood slowly, relishing in the way the ground remained stable under his feet. Still nervous that he might collapse again, Link moved methodically and slowly, pulling his pants back on and at least pulling the sleeves of his shirt on. It took much more care and effort to button his pants and his shirt, fingers trembling with what he belatedly realized was the excess caffeine from his multiple cups of coffee over the past few days.

Eyes watering as they faced the light that was filtering through the curtains, he fought to remember what, exactly, had happened between the time his body had hit the office floor and the moment he'd woken up here, in Kanda's bed. He came up blank.

Rubbing the side of his nose, Link sighed. Now that he had slept at least some, it was easier to recognize the insanity he'd been forcing himself through. His thoughts were certainly clearer than before, and much more logical.

Dragging his hand down his face, Link walked carefully but assuredly to the bedroom door, intent on finding his phone. What time was it? Could he still make it back to work? There was no excuse for being so inept that he blacked out. Had he even been productive while at work?

Anxiety churned in Link's stomach, and he was relieved that the moment he opened the door he could hear soft noises. Kanda was at least home, then. Making his way down a hall now as familiar to him as his own, he rounded the corner to find Kanda in the kitchen, back to him as he fussed with something on the counter.

Link stopped still, staring at Kanda's back. Link couldn't remember much, but he could at least reason out what had happened. Taking care of him like this was more than Link expected or could even accept.

Following that thought was the sensory memory of Kanda's hands on him, and the knowledge that Kanda had undressed him again. 

If Kanda really had undressed Link, then he would've noticed that his marks had finally faded from Link's skin. Link wondered if he would be at all disappointed.

Link stepped forwards tentatively, glancing around the apartment furtively in search of his phone. The floorboards creaked ever slightly beneath his feet, and Kanda's back went tense. He turned sharply, eyes landing on Link and narrowing instantaneously.

"Oh, no you fucking don't," Kanda growled, and Link blanched, not knowing what he could've possibly done to upset Kanda. Kanda pointed back in the direction of his bedroom, tight-lipped with a cold, intense sort of anger that Link couldn't quite place. "Back to bed. Now."

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," Kanda said, glaring viciously. "You fucking collapsed, what the hell do you think you're doing walking around?"

"I did not  _collapse,"_  Link said immediately, even if it was true. 

"You collapsed," Kanda reiterated, "on top of that tiny little girl. Probably crushed her."

"I did?" Link asked, disbelieving. If that was true, Madarao was going to give him hell for it. There was very little that set off Madarao, but anything concerned Tewaku did. Link falling on top of her was definitely going to have repercussions on that end.

"Yeah," Kanda said. "You fainted, the whole nine yards. What the hell were you thinking?"

Link bristled, stiffening at the anger lacing Kanda's tone. "Where's my phone?" He demanded instead, glancing around the kitchen counters in hopes of finding it there.

Kanda rolled his eyes and dug into a pocket, pulling it out with two fingers in a way that instantly made Link nervous he'd drop it. "This?" Kanda asked.

Link stepped forward, hand held out expectantly, but instead of dropping it into his palm Kanda wrapped his fingers around it, stuffing it back into his pocket. Link stared at him.

"You're not getting this back until you sleep another five hours," Kanda said. 

"Excuse me?" Link balked, staring at Kanda's pocket and then back at Kanda's smug face. 

"I just finished carrying your ass in here, I'm not about to do it again when you stupidly go back to work thinking you're fine."

Link hesitated, meeting Kanda's eyes and then glancing away. Even if Link somehow made his way back to work, the work day was surely almost over already. There'd be no point to it. 

"Two more hours," he attempted feebly, hoping Kanda could be bargained with.

"Five," Kanda repeated, eyes flashing. "For fuck's sake. I'm giving you an ultimatum."

Link grimaced, dropping his gaze to his bare feet.

There was nothing but silence as Link struggled with his decision, knowing that Kanda could be as stubborn as Allen when he wanted his way, and Link was just as equally susceptible to giving in. He felt immensely guilty causing Kanda so much trouble over something as stupid as not sleeping enough, and above all he felt ashamed. Link never asked for help because he never needed it, and being forced to accept it was just as unbearable.

Fighting Kanda on this was fast becoming just as senseless, though. 

"Do you... have anything else I could possibly change into?" Link asked, not quite able to bring himself to look Kanda in the eye. This wouldn't be the first time he'd borrowed clothes from Kanda, of course, but the fact still felt somewhat nerve-wracking, somehow. All the same, the alternative was to crawl back into Kanda's bed in either his rumpled work clothes or back into his underwear, and neither option seemed particularly appealing.

Kanda nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with Link's capitulation.

"I keep most of my sweatpants in the top right of my drawers," he said. "Knock yourself out."

"Thank you," Link murmured, voice catching just slightly over the words. He turned on his heels and escaped back into Kanda's bedroom. His face felt hot, and he hoped that his flush hadn't been evident enough for Kanda to pick up on.

In Kanda's bedroom, Link dug through the drawer and pulled out a soft well-worn pair of sweats, hesitating on looking for a shirt, too. Feeling too guilty to ask for more, Link changed quickly, wary that Kanda might come back at some point. 

How had he even ended up in Kanda's apartment? Kanda had said he'd carried Link — had he really been the first person Tewaku or Madarao had called to pick Link up? Link longed for his phone, just then. He would've liked to confirm the story from either one of them, as well as let them know he was doing fine and would be perfectly capable of putting in overtime tomorrow to make up for his absence. However, what with the way Kanda was currently holding Link's iPhone hostage, that was hardly an option. Gingerly, he laid himself back down against the sheets, head sinking back down into Kanda's pillow.

Although Link could feel an exhaustion seeping deep into his bones, falling asleep once more felt nigh impossible. He lay back with his eyes open, unable to do anything but fixate on the sound of Kanda's movements throughout the rest of the apartment. He would curse, occasionally, footsteps padding through the kitchen as he fumbled with what sounded very much like pots and pans. Cooking, by the sound of it. That seemed a little unusual to Link. Although he was certain it was already far past noon, Link was confident that it was still nowhere near dinnertime.

Link tried to find that earlier comfort he'd woken up with, but it was long gone, his nerves tense with not only embarrassment but worry, too, about his work and his friends. Would Leverrier take him aside to talk about Link's poor performance at work? Did he hurt Tewaku, falling on her like that? What would his coworkers say? He didn't necessarily care about their opinions, but anything that affected his work left him nervous. 

He pinched the sheets between his fingers, rubbing the fabric as he thought. Despite all of his worries, there was something calming about Kanda's room. There were no distractions, or noises, no Tokusa knocking on his door asking for food, or a phone to mind with notifications, or a computer to work on. Kanda's room was simply meant for sleep. 

The longer he lay there, the more he relaxed, feeling heavier and heavier. He turned his head aside, focusing on the windows and the light dimly shining through the curtains. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He hadn't noticed before since he'd woken up in it, but like this, in Kanda's bed and wearing his clothes, it smelled exactly like him. Link grasped the sheets, twisting them in his hands, but staying still. 

It was only because he was so tired, Link reasoned, bringing the sheets up to just under his chin. He was tired, so everything felt comfortable, seemed comforting. Lethargic and tired, Link thought, were very good reasons to curl up like this.

He was so lost in his own meandering thoughts that he didn't hear Kanda's steady approach until the door abruptly swung open, startling Link into dropping the sheets and sitting up.

Kanda cocked a brow but didn't comment, balancing a bowl in one hand and holding a tray by his side. He set the breakfast tray across Link's lap, surprising Link. He didn't seem to be the type to eat breakfast in bed. The bowl that followed was filled with chicken soup, and Link realized suddenly how intensely hungry he was. When was the last time he'd eaten? All he remembered was the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue.

Right on the heels of that thought was another.

_You look like shit, Link._

Kanda, who was so beautiful he took Link's breath away, was standing beside him and seeing him like this. Link curled his hands under the tray, careful to not disturb it.

It felt ridiculous to ask if the soup was for him, but it felt too presumptuous to just start digging in.

Thankfully, Kanda filled in the blanks. "Eat," he said, turning on his heel to leave. "It's canned soup, so don't say shit about its taste."

He was gone before Link could muster up a 'thank you' or anything else to say. Dutifully he sipped at the soup, holding back a grimace at the bland taste. Nonetheless, food was food, and Link doubted Kanda would accept anything but an empty bowl back.

Link had only managed a few more spoonfuls before Kanda was back, holding medicine and another spoon.

Link blanched, minutely shaking his head. "This is excessive," he protested. "I'm not actually sick. I just need to sleep some."

Kanda scowled impressively, glaring down from his tall height as he set the medicine aside on the end table. He sat at the edge of the bed, taking care not to jostle the tray or the bowl. "Bullshit. Just take the damn medicine and go to sleep."

Link sighed, accepting the bottle and spoon Kanda held out. Carefully, he read the directions and warnings, including the possible drowsiness, but nothing jumped out as an excuse. Pouring and quickly swallowing two tablespoons, Link frowned, spooning some more soup to chase away the bitter taste. It didn't help much.

Kanda set the bottle aside and crossed his arms, clearly intending to wait out the rest of Link's meal. 

Link had just finished the last sip when Kanda suddenly moved, a cool hand resting on Link's forehead. Link froze, spoon clattering in the empty bowl as Kanda rested there a moment. Then, Link closed his eyes, relishing in the cool sensation. 

Without warning Kanda shifted down, the back of his hand resting on Link's cheek. Link turned into the touch.

"No fever," Kanda announced, dropping his hand. Link finally looked up and found Kanda's face unreadable, startled when Kanda seemed to just watch him. "Maybe idiots really don't catch colds."

Immediately the warm feeling was chased away and Link scowled. "I hardly think losing sleep warrants being called an idiot."

"What kind of idiot forces himself to stay awake for so long he collapses?"

"Your beside manner is terrible," Link said instead, skirting around the subject. Link would rather drink a thousand cans of chicken soup than to admit Kanda and Allen had kept him wide awake. 

Kanda scoffed, gathering the bowl and tray to set each respectively on the end table and against its side. "I wouldn't need to be using a bedside manner at all if you just took care of yourself for once, you absolute idiot."

Link thought of a scathing remark, of turning the insult around, of even baring the truth, but something about the almost domestic motion of Kanda twisting to face him after taking care of Link and worrying about him weakened that rebellious resolve, turning it soft and unbearably warm.

Without thinking, he took Kanda's hand on his lap, holding it with both of his and marveling at the differences between their hands, unable to meet Kanda's startled gaze as he quietly murmured, "Thank you."

He could almost feel Kanda rolling his eyes, hand shifting to hold Link's right, thumb caressing Link's knuckles. Link closed his eyes against the feather-light touch, remembering another pair of hands holding his, tracing patterns on the back of his hand.

The moment stretched long enough that Link lost his sense of time, leaning fully against the pillows as he focused only on Kanda's repetitive touch. When Kanda spoke, Link startled, eyes fluttering open.

"Go to sleep."

"It's too early to sleep," Link protested, despite being thoroughly tucked into bed. "It's barely afternoon."

"You haven't slept for three fucking days," Kanda said, staring at him in disbelief. 

Link shot him a startled look, and only when Kanda's expression turned smug did he realize it had been a bluff. He shifted on the edge of the bed, the hand holding Link's tightening just enough to be noticeable. Kanda really was so much more expressive with his body. Settling more firmly against the pillows, Link ignored the way he felt his heart racing, memorizing that almost playful expression.

"I'm not tired," Link insisted, and it was nearly true. There was something rebelling in him at the thought of going to bed during the middle of the day. It felt unnatural. 

"Don't be an idiot," Kanda said, not unkindly but certainly not without bite. He had an odd coarse way of showing his worry, Link thought, only realizing a second later what that meant. Kanda stared at him quietly, then, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of Link's hand. Link was nearly lost in that steady rhythm when Kanda leaned forward, breath ghosting on Link's cheek.

Instantly Link's eyes shot to Kanda, mourning how very blue they looked from so close, dark lashes framing and emphasizing them. He really was very pretty. Kanda was close enough that Link could see the depth of his pupils, feel the heat of his skin, the way the bed sunk as their weight moved closer. 

Link licked his lips, words dying on his tongue when Kanda's gaze flickered to them and back to his eyes. Kanda tilted forward, just the slightest, as if to kiss Link's cheek, and Link couldn't help closing his eyes. 

"Keep your eyes closed," Kanda whispered, words a breath away. Link didn't even nod, for fear of moving too close or too far. Instead, he simply acquiesced, and against the backdrop of darkness he could almost picture Kanda, still. 

Long black hair spilling over one shoulder, his hand intertwined with Link's, still rubbing soothing circles. The twist of his chest as he bent towards Link, the curve of his face, the dip of his collarbone and pronounced line of his forearm as he braced himself against the bed.

Kanda nosed along the side of Link's cheek, following the contour of his jaw, almost close enough to kiss but still not quite touching. Aware of his own breath, Link forced it steady, eyes completely closed.

When Kanda pulled away, Link was tempted to almost chase him, but a staying hand on his shoulder kept him back, and before Link could open his eyes to wonder what had changed, he felt a soothing touch in his hair.

Without thinking, he leaned into Kanda's touch. Slowly, Kanda brought his hand back again to card through Link's hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear and idly smoothing down over the back of his neck. His hands were cool and impossibly gentle. Hypnotically so. Despite himself, Link felt himself fall away to that soft, repetitive motion, mind falling away to the heaviness of sleep in the warmth and safety of Kanda's bed.

Surrounded by Kanda's scent, he slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

When Link woke again, the room was noticeably darker and Kanda was gone.

Link stared for a long moment at the curtains, opaque now that daylight wasn't shining through them. He worked through the dazed fog of sleep, trying to remember why he was in Kanda's room again. It came to him slowly in bits and pieces, and he lingered on the memory of Kanda's hands in his hair.

Part of him was curious as to what that touch had meant, why Kanda had even bothered-- but just as surely, part of him was desperate not to know. To just accept that touch as it was, without questioning it and all its sweetness. 

It was strange, the way Kanda's touch could put him in a trance. Strange and somewhat unnerving. 

For the second time that day, he found himself pushing Kanda's sheets off of himself, climbing out of his bed as the world slowly returned to him, details flooding back to him piece by piece. For one, as his feet connected with Kanda's hardwood floors, he realized it had become quite cool. The sun must have fully set by now, Link realized, and he struggled to rationalize what time that would make it. Sometime past 9, then, maybe? Even later? Regardless, it was clear to Link that he'd overstayed his welcome. Best get out as soon as possible to avoid any further embarrassment.

It was only after he vaguely reached for where his phone might be that he remembered Kanda still had it hidden somewhere, or maybe pocketed. There wasn't a single clock in Kanda's room, and a quick glance outside the window didn't help discern the time either.

It reminded Link of the first time he'd woken in Kanda's home, and how disconnected he felt in the hallway filled with Kanda's family portraits, disoriented all over again.

His clothes were still neatly folded at the end of the bed, and he took a moment to change, head still swimming with all the implications of sleeping the entire afternoon and evening away. 

Link hesitated before making the bed again, pulling the sheets as taut as Kanda had and arranging the pillows until it looked like Link had never been there at all. He glanced around for anything else out of order and found his hair tie on the end table. Even the bowl and tray Kanda had brought earlier were gone again, and once Link picked the tie up to neatly braid his hair with, it was like the room was completely devoid of anything that could say Link had stayed there.

It was a discomforting thought, and one Link didn't linger over. Despite dreading leaving the room and confronting what his lapse in control had wrought, it felt even worse staying in Kanda's personal room all by himself, as if he had any right to be there.

He took one last look before finally leaving, glancing over the photographs lining the halls, placing names to faces that were familiar to him now. There was room Link had never been in, and every time he'd been over the door to it had been closed. It was cracked open as he passed it now, and he barely glanced at it when Kanda's voice startled him, incredibly loud in comparison to the silence of the apartment.

"Are you feeling better?"

Link pushed the door open further, taking in everything slowly. Kanda was sitting on a mat in the middle of a mostly empty room, legs tucked into lotus position but hands lax. There was equipment scattered around the edges of the room, and while Link knew Kanda worked out he never thought this was what the mystery room had been. A guest room, maybe, or a study.

"Yes," Link said slowly, processing it all. Kanda was wearing a loose tank and what looked like yoga pants. He was observing Link with an expression that was decidedly neutral, eyes half-lidded as if he was still lost in the quiet calm of meditation. Link felt a stab of guilt, inexplicably feeling like he'd disturbed Kanda in a rare moment of genuine peacefulness. “I didn’t mean to disturb you."

Kanda frowned, and Link mourned the loss of that almost peaceful expression. Before Kanda could say anything, Link steamrolled on, face burning with a feeling of shame that only seemed to mount with each passing second.

"I apologize for all the trouble I've caused you," he continued, feigning interest in the floor beneath him in a somewhat desperate attempt to avoid eye contact. "I promise you it won't happen again. If you'd please give me my phone, I'll show myself out."

Kanda closed his eyes as if just the sight of Link was too much to bear. He held his hand up to stop Link and said, "Jesus Christ, just shut up."

"Excuse me?" Link could understand if Kanda was mad about how much he'd been inconvenienced, but this felt decidedly off.

Kanda stood up briskly, easily unfolding himself from the position and standing with such grace it inspired pang of envy in Link. "I only asked if you were feeling better, goddamn." He pulled Link's phone from his pocket and held it out carelessly, forcing Link to come closer. 

"I'm sorry," Link said reflexively, and Kanda scowled as if Link had said something particularly exasperating.

"Quit apologizing," he said. He stepped forwards, movements at once fluid and assured as he edged closer to Link. He pressed Link's phone into his hand, fingertips grazing Link's for a flash of a moment before retreating once more. "It's fine, alright?"

Hesitantly, Link glanced back up to meet Kanda's hard blue eyes. His gaze was fierce, unyielding, and yet Link couldn't quite call it  _unkind_ either.

"It's not alright," Link protested wanly, shaking his head. "This was an enormous imposition—"

"It's  _alright,"_ Kanda stressed, irritation lacing the words. "Check your fucking phone, your annoying ass roommate called."

Link held Kanda's gaze a moment longer before finally relenting, sighing as he unlocked his phone and found another mass of texts and missed calls. 

[Tokusa, 1:45 PM]: jesus christ, howie

[Tokusa, 1:45 PM]: i'm glad your boyfriend is keeping you up all night every night, but this is a BIT much

[Tokusa, 1:49 PM]: pls don't die, i can't pay rent on my own

[Tokusa, 1:50 PM]: or cook

[Tokusa, 1:51 PM]: or kill spiders

[Tokusa, 2:05 PM]: no but seriously, text me when you get this

[Tokusa, 2:05 PM]: PS i won't be home tonight, the door's unlocked so your garbage ass can crawl back in

Link sighed, and immediately began to tap out a brief response he hoped would sound reassuring.

He quickly checked a few more messages to see if any were urgent before putting his phone away, glancing up and freezing when he found Kanda staring at him.

"What?" Link asked, feeling defensive.

"You said you were going home," Kanda looked around and snagged a nearby pair of shoes, toeing them on easily. "So let's go."

"You don't have to come with me," Link responded immediately.

"So you can fucking pass out on the side of the road? Yeah, no. I don't think so."

"You don't  _have_ to," Link said, a tad too loudly, and Kanda paused, slowly looking up to meet his eyes. He held Kanda's stare, resisting the urge to just say yes. Even more than that urge though, Link didn't think he could stand walking all the way home with Kanda just a hair's breadth away, close enough to touch and feel.

Something indecipherable flickered in Kanda's eyes, but it was gone before Link could really understand it. Rolling his eyes, Kanda pushed past Link, not quite touching him as he cleared the door.

"Come on," Kanda said, gentler now. Soft, almost, which was not a word Link often thought of when Kanda came to mind. "It's just a walk. It's no big deal."

Link worried at his lower lip, eyes falling from Kanda to the floorboards once more. He could feel Kanda's gaze on him still, heavy, but not unkind.  _Let me do this._

"Alright," he demurred. With this small act of surrender, all the tension and antagonism the two of them had built up seemed to bleed away — and while Kanda said nothing to corroborate it, Link could feel his relief. It filled the room as sweetly and invisibly as a heady perfume. "If... you insist."

"There. Was that so hard?" Kanda said.

Link rolled his eyes, but didn't bother retaliating. Somewhere, at some point, he'd come to the realization that this was Kanda's way of worrying about him, and the thought alone had his stomach twisting in nervous, delirious butterflies. They made speaking a rather difficult task.

 

* * *

 

 

This late, there wasn't anyone else on the streets. In the distance, filling the night sky, were the call of nocturnal animals, cricket-song and the whisper of wind gliding through underbrush and trees. The summer heat was comfortable now, at night, lulling in the way it carried you close. Kanda was so close Link could just barely feel the warmth lifting off his skin, and they walked companionably in the silence.

Neither of them were talkative by nature, but with most people Link still felt inclined to fill the silences out of sheer social grace. Kanda, of course, never felt this inclination as far as Link knew, but there was nothing straining the tension between them. 

It wasn't a long walk at all, five minutes at most, but each minute felt almost dream-like, not a drag to endure but something to linger in, savoring the experience. Kanda kept close to Link, walking just a step behind the whole time as if anticipating that Link would collapse once more at any moment. Which was absolutely ridiculous, of course, but Link couldn't quite summon the presence of mind to be angry when Kanda's fingertips brushed up against Link's own every few seconds. 

The last lingering rays of sunlight had faded hours ago, and the night ahead of them was dark, leaving the both of them dimly illuminated beneath the glow of the street lamps above. In the darkness between each spot of light, Link felt intimately close to Kanda, aware of his breath, of his warmth, of the soft sounds his clothes made as he walked and the way each breeze seemed to bring them even closer. It faded only slightly when they walked under another lamp, rising and falling. 

The wind picked up in a sharp gust, and Link resisted the blind urge to reach out and take Kanda's hand in his proper, just to warm himself up.

A sudden breeze carrying the scent of rain caught on Kanda's hair, just briefly, enough for the flash of it to arrest Link's eye. He turned to face Kanda, maybe to say something, maybe to just grab his hand, when the skies opened up and heavy rain fell.

They both jerked back and look up, startled. The raindrops were almost painfully heavy, and with the night time it was hard to see just how dark the clouds were. 

They were moments away from an outright downpour, and they were only halfway to Link's. Would it be faster to just keep going, or maybe to head back? But then Kanda would have to endure the rain twice, but if Link headed home with Kanda he'd be imposing on him again.

Link hesitated long enough that the rain really started coming down, saturating his hair and shoulders with water, dripping off the sides of his face.

"For fuck's sake," Kanda sighed, pushing back his damp fringe. His words were punctuated by a brutal clap of thunder. "We're gonna get soaked at this rate."

Overhead, a jagged bolt of lightning erupted, sharp and sudden and searing white, but all the same, it only managed to come second to the sudden shock of Kanda's hand pulling Link's own into a tight clasp.

Link's startled gasp was swallowed by a boom of thunder so disruptive a few car alarms went off, and as if that had been the last warning, what could have been a light summer shower turned into an outright squall. 

"C'mon," Kanda said, voice low and soft as velvet. He tugged Link forwards, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to quick his step. "Let's make a break for it."

Link opened his mouth, maybe to protest, but then the rain was coming down on him in hard, fast sheets, beating down against the asphalt, each drop bursting like a bullet against the fresh, cooling tar. Before he could think, they were running, running through the slick, black street, running like Link hadn't run since he was a child-- wild, ebullient, ecstatically drunk on freedom. 

Late at night under a summer storm with only lamplight to guide them, shoes soaked and pressing hard against glistening wet pavements, light smeared hazily down the streets in gleaming stretches, it all felt beyond surreal — like a dream.

The rain was cold, but Kanda's hand was warm. Solid, real, unerring, like a promise kept.

Running cut the time short and what had felt interminably long before was over much too quickly, and soon they were stumbling under a balcony, almost shivering with giddy joy. They sagged against the wall, chests heaving and the thunderous sound of rain hiding their gasps, water quickly pooling at their feet as it fell off them. 

And despite being safe from the rain, Kanda didn't let go of Link's hand, fingers interlaced even as the water dripped down their arms, wrists, to their knuckles before falling free.

Link threaded the fingers of his free hand through his bangs, pushing his drenched hair back and out of his face, in that moment turning to find Kanda watching him.

The rain cut a straight curtain around them, and with not another soul in sight Link felt impossibly alone with Kanda, like they were the only ones around for miles. In the distant light, Kanda's hair was liquid black, drenched with rain, and even though the storm had been cold Link felt overwhelmingly hot under Kanda's gaze.

Suddenly, Link realized that their clothes were clinging to their skin, outlining every curve, glistening wet on Kanda's exposed neck. The rainwater had soaked Link's braid, too, heavy enough to pull strands free that clung to Link's neck and shoulders, something that would've felt unbearable if it weren't for Kanda's slow appreciative look. With his hair tied up like that, the water weight must've been painful, but Kanda made no move to change it. With his free hand Link tucked his braid over his shoulder, deftly undoing it even though the water-soaked strands had tangled some. The entire time Kanda watched him, unabashed and blatant.

Fumbling for words, Link said whatever came to mind. "I could," Link panted, trying to catch his breath. With one hand, he gestured back towards his apartment building vaguely. "I could, I don't know, run inside and get you an umbrella?

"Uh, pretty sure that's a lost fucking cause by now," Kanda said, and he extended his free arm, making a show of himself to illustrate his point— hair clinging to his neck and forehead, clothes soaked through, rumpled slick with rain— Link pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh, but the laugh grew and grew until his shoulders were shaking, uncontainable. 

"Perhaps a towel, then?"

Kanda gave Link a playful shove on the shoulder, grinning ferociously. "I've already got a wet towel right here."

"Rude," Link sighed, more preoccupied with wringing the excess water over his soaking braid, praying it wouldn't tangle.

"You know it's true."

They walked slowly down the corridor, side by side, hands still intertwined, and Link didn't dare hold him tighter, or quicken his pace, or call any attention to it all; he just hoped Kanda wouldn't realize and pull away.

The closer they grew to Link's door, the more his heart sped up, dreading the inevitable separation. He didn't want to leave Kanda. In fact, what he really wanted was to walk back to Kanda's home, curl around him in bed and to sleep together to the sound of the rain. But it was a ridiculous thought, followed quickly by the promise he'd sworn to himself.

_Don't let it get to you._

That was remarkably hard to accomplish with Kanda's hand warm in his, the memory of Kanda's face near his, the weight of the bed sinking in as Kanda leaned in to brush Link's fringe out of his face. Even now, beyond memory and what had happened, to the smell of rain, the heat from Kanda's walking beside him, the way Kanda's breath was still just a bit too fast from their mad run through the rain.

Kanda stopped, his hold on Link stilling him, and Link realized they were in front of his door. He hesitated, turning to face Kanda, still taking care not to jostle their hands. Kanda's face wasn't quite blank, but there was an expression to it, a look in his eyes that did nothing to dispel the rapid beating of Link's heart or the way Link did his best to remember all that he could, the blue of Kanda's eyes even in the low light and the shine of his dark hair, the softness evident in the searching glance Kanda gave him.

Link licked his lips, taking a quick sharp breath as he finally made up his mind. "Do you... do you want to stay?"

It took a moment too long for Kanda to respond, the expression stealing Link's breaths fading into confusion. "What?"

Gathering his scattered thoughts, Link suddenly registered what he'd said— and more importantly, what it sounded like he was implying. He hurried to correct himself, hoping Kanda would brush his rising blush off as a byproduct of the cold.

"For a cup of tea," Link elaborated rapidly, voice nearly faltering embarrassingly. He twisted his fingers out of Kanda's grip belatedly, having forgotten they were even holding hands in the first place. He wondered if Kanda had been quietly waiting for Link to let go, and was silently mortified by the thought. "I mean, you'll catch your death if you go back out, perhaps you should stay for a little while until you dry off—"

A sloppy excuse, Link knew, for wanting just a little more time with Kanda.

"Summer storms never last particularly long, going back right away would only serve to get you soaked to the bone, and really, it's the least I can do after imposing on you, and I couldn't possibly send you back out looking like this— I couldn't bear it—"

Kanda cocked a brow sharply, cutting Link's mortifying rambling off. "Looking like what?"

Link falters and gestured at Kanda emptily, the whole dripping, clinging, dark-eyed mess of him, and Kanda actually laughed, low and warm. The sound found its way under Link's cold, rain-soaked skin, heating him up from inside out. Kanda rolled his eyes and reached forwards to steal back Link's hand.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay. I'll stay."

"You'll stay?" Link echoed, before his brain caught up with him. Afraid Kanda would rescind the statement if he let it hang for too long, Link hurriedly made for his doorknob, relieved when it opened without fuss. "Right, of course. Come inside and—" he faltered, cut himself off sharply, and stepped in first to turn the lights on. Kanda followed him without another word, immensely relieving Link. 

The lights flickered on, illuminating his clean and orderly apartment. Link had feared that in the brief moments he'd been gone Tokusa had somehow managed to ruin the place, but nothing seemed out of place or evidently unclean, and Link continued forward, flicking lights on. He wondered idly if the lights might possibly go out with the heavy storm, but doubted it.

If he had candles, it'd make for a romantic evening.

Shoving the thought away, Link made his way to his kitchen, Kanda close on his heels. Surely they were tracking water everywhere, but Link found he didn't mind as much as he could have.

Link typically preferred coffee, but Tokusa did like tea every now and then. Surely there was some of it left. A quick perusal through a cupboard and he found it, wishing he had more to offer Kanda. 

"Is black tea fine?" He asked Kanda, turning his head to address the question directly. Kanda hovered at the entrance to the kitchen, deft fingers working the tie out of his wet hair.

"Mm," he intoned, which Link supposed was as good as a confirmation. He left the box on the counter and filled the electric kettle with water, flipping it on to bring it to a boil. He turned back around and padded towards Kanda, whose eyes still were trained solely on Link as he wrapped his discarded hair tie around one wrist. With his long hair pooling damp and free around his shoulders, he looked more endearingly wrecked than ever, and Link was reminded of his earlier, half-teasing offer of a towel. 

"Hold on a minute," he said.

Kanda's face twisted, as if to say 'what else am I going to do?', but before he could manage to Link left, heading to a hall closet and taking two towels down. For a moment, Link considered offering Kanda a change of clothes, but not only would they not fit Kanda it felt largely redundant. Kanda wouldn't be staying long enough to warrant it.

Link exhaled sharply, dispelling the sudden memory of what Kanda's clothes felt like to wear, or his bed, or being curled together as they slept. In the kitchen the kettle was just beginning to boil, and Link set his towel on the counter, taking the ends of the other and settling it over Kanda's shoulder without much thought to the action.

He was used to touching Allen easily and simply, affection given and received without overthinking it, but Kanda wasn't Allen, and where he could be willful with Allen didn't necessarily mean he could with Kanda.

He froze, meeting Kanda's gaze across the short distance, searching for anger, or irritation, or even discomfort.

None of that was there. Instead, Kanda's expression was uncharacteristically unreadable, focus held on Link with a near-surgical precision. He bit his lower lip, as if in deep consideration. Fearing he'd overstepped some unspoken boundary, Link released the towel, and it fell softly over Kanda's shoulders.

Distantly, he registered a hiss of steam. Grateful for the chance to retreat, he turned back around and paced towards the counter, busying himself with fumbling fingers at emptying the boiling water into two mugs. He reached for the boxed tea, but in his haste dropped the lid, finely ground leaves spreading across the counter in a messy spray. Mortification lit Link's cheeks red.

He looked at the spilled grounds, making a jerky movement to sweep them off the counter, but before he could touch them Kanda's hand settled over his.

Instantly Link froze, hyperaware of how close Kanda had gotten, knowing that if he turned he'd find Kanda right beside him. Swallowing his embarrassment, Link forced himself to look up, meeting Kanda's eyes. That look from earlier, when they'd been standing dripping wet and far too close in the darkness outside his door, was back, sending a violent tremor through Link that made his knees weak.

Caught in Kanda's gaze, Link only felt Kanda's hand wrapping around his wrist, bringing their hands between them. Link couldn't look away as Kanda brought Link's right hand to his mouth, twisting the underside of Link's wrist so that he could press a soft, gentle, kiss to his palm. Link wondered if he could feel the way his hands trembled. 

"Kanda," Link said, voice breathier than he'd like, but managing one word was hard as it was, and focused as he was on Kanda's eyes, he didn't miss the way they flickered, looking from Link's palm to his lips and to his eyes.

Link didn't know what he wanted to say, or if there was even anything to say at all. All he could think was how very close Kanda was, and how easy it would be to thread his fingers into Kanda's hair and draw him even closer.

But Kanda drew closer on his own, pressing in so that they were nearly chest to chest. He let go of Link's hand abruptly, and numb with shock and nerves and desire, Link allowed it to fall to his side. Kanda's pupils, he noticed, had dilated so that his eyes seemed huge and dark, the sharp burst of blue tempered by a deep black that reflected both everything and nothing.

Slowly, with agonizing gentleness, Kanda leaned in, touching the side of Link's face with the graze of his fingertips. Link could feel Kanda's warm breath skating over his cheeks and over his lips, a shaky exhale full of unspoken trepidation. Link didn't move a muscle. He felt he'd lost control of his entire body, as if he'd been possessed. It took everything he had just to stand of his own power, just to resist the impulse to collapse against Kanda's body and be held.

Kanda's thumb tracked down the angle of Link's cheekbone, wandering down until it reached the corner of Link's mouth. He brushed over Link's lower lip, as if to test the soft give of it. For the first time in a full minute, Link felt the urge to move. His hands, still shaky, reached up to slide over Kanda's chest and grip his wet shirt. Whether it was to push Kanda way or pull him closer, he wasn't sure.

Just as he was wondering how Kanda would react if Link parted his lips, something changed. Kanda's expression, once alright with this dark, impossible want, was now closing up, flickering towards cold shock-- as if he'd suddenly come to his senses and realized what he'd been about to do.

"I should go," Kanda said. He took a janky, almost violent step back, as if throwing himself away from Link. Link braced back against the counter. Something inside him was already aching at the loss of Kanda's warmth, Kanda's touch.

_Don't give in._

Link was full of shit.

"Wait—"

Link moved before he even knew what he was doing, latching onto Kanda's wrist and stopping him. His own desperation curled low in his stomach, chasing away the earlier buoyant nerves and replacing it with a self-disgust so sharp it outlined clearly that Link had given in long long ago. 

Kanda jerked his hand free, forcing Link to stumble with the harsh tug of it. The rejection stung. Link curled his fingers in, brushing over the place where Kanda had kissed his palm. Grasping at straws, Link blurted, "Your tea. You didn't get any." The more he spoke the worse it felt, the harsher his own pathetic words echoed back to him. "And your hair is still wet..."

"It doesn't matter," Kanda said. He reached around his neck roughly and threw his towel down onto the kitchen table. Shaking his hair free, he reached back around his wrist for his hair tie and began pulling his hair back up into a sloppy ponytail as he retreated, edging back towards the door. "Have a good night."

"At least," Link started, voice distant to his own ears, the soft desperate edge to it foreign to the panic he felt, "let me get you an umbrella. It's still raining." He'd been so distracted that the thunderous sound of it had been relegated to the background, but with his words it became obvious, loud and obtrusive in the lingering silence.

"No," Kanda said. "I'll be fine."

The words were clipped and cold, an added rejection to the abrupt distance Kanda had suddenly created. Kanda wasn't even looking at him, staring instead at some far off point. His hair still clung to his temples, strands curling loosely at his neck, and Link wondered why instead of anger all he felt was the pitiful urge to ask  _Why are you leaving? What did I do?_

"Don't be ridiculous," Link continued numbly, voice level despite it all, attempting to catch the brief look Kanda sent him before he glanced away just as quickly. "It's pouring."

"I don't  _care,"_  Kanda said, voice just beginning to show anger. Link stilled, the harsh tone and seeming reprimand instantly silencing whatever else he might've said. Even though Kanda wasn't looking at him, his shoulders grew tense, as if aware of the impact of his words.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Link was glad Kanda wasn't looking at him now, because he wasn't sure what kind of face he was making, only that it was a pathetically honest one.

Kanda hesitated, face tilting as if to look at Link but gaze determinedly fixed away, and then he turned his back to Link.

"I'll see you later," he said, and walked away. Link remained where he was, rooted to the spot as he listened to the soft fall of Kanda's footsteps fading, his door opening, the harsh immediate sound of thundering rain, and then the door closing, leaving Link in complete silence.

It all felt so abrupt that Link could hardly understand what had happened, what had changed, and what had caused the shift at all. He lifted his right hand, fingers uncurling to show his bare unmarked palm. 

The ghost of Kanda's kiss lingered, and Link pressed his own lips over it.

 

* * *

 

 

The sensation of a needle pricking skin was wholly unique. There was nothing quite like it, and nothing you could mistake it for. It stung, of course, as the needle worked down his shoulder and over his pectoral, but he found he didn't really mind the pain. Sometimes, a little pain could be good— even necessary. It served as a reminder. It was the tangible proof of a deeper, less readily visible wound.

It had been one year since Alma's death.

Allen worked more or less quietly, focused on the sharp jagged lines, and Kanda sipped at the drink Allen had poured him, a gin and tonic. He was bent down close over Kanda, eyes trained on him with professional focus as he carefully, steadily inked his way down Kanda's body. It was the first time Kanda had ever seen Allen at work, and he was distantly (but not unpleasantly) surprised by how seriously he seemed to take it. 

In a way, he expected a lot of chatter, about nothing and everything, things Kanda wouldn't have cared to talk about and even less endured, but there was nothing but silence, the sharp mechanical whirr of the tattoo machine, and the quiet creak of the ceiling fan. It was rather calming, all things considered, aside from the needles methodically puncturing his skin regularly.

The closest they came to anything resembling conversation were Allen's occasional small, absent-minded hums, almost lost beneath the more insistent hum of his equipment. Kanda was a little glad for Allen's unexpected silence.

For one, it meant he was focusing, which was appreciated given the fact he was working on a piece that would be imprinted into Kanda's skin for the rest of his life. Secondly, Kanda wasn't really in the mood to talk, or even argue. Memories both old and fresh had put him in a morose mood, and he doubted he could keep up with their typical bickering even if he wanted to.

It didn't hurt as much as Kanda expected or had been made to believe, though it was certainly an experience. He rested his head back, staring at the lazy circuits the fan made, disturbing the hot summer air and very faintly brushing his bangs. He took another sip, letting it rest on his tongue as a distraction before swallowing.

"How're you holding up?" Allen asked suddenly, the end of the machine still steadily moving, a rapid up-down-up-down that was unnerving to watch. Kanda had the notion Allen was asking less about the pain and more about the memories he was struggling to avoid.

Instead of indulging Allen, Kanda said, "Just fucking fine. Except my drink is empty."

He could nearly see Allen rolling his eyes, and the exasperated sigh he got was a soft puff of air on his skin as Allen lifted the machine up, powering it off. "This isn't a bar. I typically give  _paying customers_  a drink to help with the pain. You seem to be doing just fine."

"I fucking offered to pay!" Kanda snapped.

"I couldn't charge you for this." Allen lifted his eyes from his work, and when they met Kanda's, they went soft with pity. "Listen, if you really want another drink, though—"

"Just forget it," Kanda said immediately, too fast, too sharp. Something about Allen's gentle look had struck him as condescending, and pissed him off. He glanced across the room, focusing stubbornly on the whirring circular movement of the electric fan. "It doesn't matter."

Allen quietly watched him, but like the ass he was, he didn't listen, temporarily setting aside his equipment crossing the room to pour him a new glass. Kanda stared stubbornly at the fan, ignoring the faint wave of pain as the air brushed over his skin undisturbed.

The tattoo parlor Allen worked at wasn't exactly upscale, but Kanda supposed it was trendy in its own way—tucked into a corner in one of the younger, more bohemian city quarters and richly furnished in dark mahogany. It was run by the Noah family, an elusive clan that were, according to Allen, "probably with the mafia," and their somber taste showed in the dark, leathery decor that populated the shop. Comparatively, Allen's warm, sunny presence provided something of a contrast, especially when he let slip that the parlor was most likely a money-laundering front for some shady cocaine dealer. Not that this ever seemed to particularly concern him.

At this hour, they should've been closed already, but Allen had made an exception for Kanda, who was antsy to have his piece finished.

Allen padded back from the minibar, wordlessly extending a drink in Kanda's direction. Kanda accepted it, taking a sip immediately to avoid the growing pressure to speak. If Kanda's lack of thanks bothered Allen, he didn't let it show. He slid back into his seat and picked his needle gun back up, expression hazing back over into focus as he leaned back in to examine his work. 

Kanda glanced down curiously, seeing red angry skin and fresh black ink. It didn't look like much of anything. In fact, it looked pretty shitty. Still, the beginning of it was there. 

Allen lapsed back into silence, fingers tracing just shy of the design itself, a touch so light it felt all the more distracting, lifting Kanda from the haze of anger, grief, and even pain to linger on the way Allen's gentle touch felt. He almost wanted to say  _I'm not so fucking fragile_ , but Allen wasn't looking at Kanda.

The fan blew on stray strands of Allen's hair, just short enough that it refused to main tucked behind his ear, falling free to obscure Allen's eyes from Kanda's view. The gloves he wore to work were different, latex and molded to Allen's skin, the sharp black of it emphasized by how closely Allen bent to observe his work, pale fine hair turned brilliant in the light. 

By the time he was halfway through his second drink, Kanda had gotten the idea into his head that it might be nice to brush Allen's hair out of his face, carding it back to observe the flash of his, the fan of his pale eyelashes. By the time he was finished, he was sorely tempted to follow through on that impulse, ridiculous as it was.

Allen Walker was a pain in Kanda's ass, but he sure as hell was a beautiful one. Kanda could admit that much— at least, he could while halfway to drunk.

"Thank you," Kanda said quietly, without really even thinking it through first. He watched for a moment, spellbound, as Allen's dexterous fingers worked over his bare chest. Then, before his words even had a chance to sink in, he tore his gaze away, looking back at the fan, which hummed on and on and on. "For the drink," he elaborated, quick, rough.

Allen stilled, the machine lifting off his skin as he paused. Kanda bit the inside of his cheek, refusing to let anything show on his face, even if Allen couldn't see it. The machine whirred to a stop, and Kanda glanced back, meeting Allen's eyes. In the warm light, they were less silver-quick and more storm-gray, something human. 

The darkness outside had pervaded throughout the parlor, the only light on in the room Allen worked, illuminating only them and obscuring everything else. Allen was entirely too warm beside him, and even through the latex Kanda could feel the pressure of Allen's fingertips on his skin. He sat close, enough so that when Kanda faced him they were barely breaths away as Allen sat straight.

Kanda had always dismissed Allen's smile. They came easily and frivolously and cheaply, freely given without value nor effort to earn it. They were used to cover up lies and misdirection and to make Allen seem prettier on the outside than he was, a false front that Kanda found pathetic. When Allen pulled those smiles out, it was as if he was dismissing Kanda. As if Kanda was simple and foolish enough to consider anything Allen said with a smile like that genuine.

But, when Kanda saw the exact moment Allen registered Kanda's thanks, and even more the true intent behind it, he could almost feel the shift, the change from casual worry to heartfelt appreciation.

The smile Allen had then was something Kanda had never seen before. It wasn't particularly wide, or elegant, or even meant for anyone else. It was Allen's genuine response, a feeling so profound Kanda could never doubt it to be false or a pitiful attempt for Kanda's sake.

"No problem," he said, reaching up with his free hand to tuck his hair back. 

Although he didn't realize then, that was the moment — the moment of fatality, the moment something clicked and fell into place. With that one smile, subtle as a secret and painfully real, Kanda had fallen in love with Allen Walker, and there could be no turning back.

At the moment, it was much easier to brush it off as the result of too many drinks on a bad day. Aware they'd been silently staring for too long now, Kanda dropped his gaze to the tattoo not even half done and scowled.

"Are you gonna fucking finish this by tonight or what?"

"Yes, yes," Allen said, in a tone so obviously patronizing it was if he was trying to pick a fight.

Ignoring Kanda's glare, Allen continued, voice light and airy. "You know, a quality tattoo like this takes  _time_. If you wanted quick and easy, you should've gone for a tramp stamp."

"The fuck would I get something like that for?"

"Because," Allen said slowly, "you're, you know." He gestured vaguely towards all of Kanda, as if that meant something.

Kanda raised a brow, waiting.

"I  _don't_ know," Kanda said flatly.

"And you never will," Allen sighed, dropping his hand, apparently exasperated by Kanda's obliviousness. Allen bent back over, the machine whirring to life and, without warning, touching back down on Kanda's skin. He held back a startled hiss, wishing he could punch Allen without warranting a needle in his flesh. Still, Allen worked quietly, and Kanda leaned back against the headrest, feeling oddly soothed by the silence. Kanda had said what he needed to, felt compelled to, and that was it.

The tattoo took two trips to complete, and now, even two years later, the lines were still crisp and stark against his skin, jagged around the promise he'd given Alma. The beginning and the end and creation and harmony, imprinted over his heart. A farewell and a promise of remembrance to a boy Kanda had once thought could be his everything.

The angry red swelling had taken a little less than a month to fade. Kanda's feelings for Allen were more persistent in their refusal to disappear.

Worse even, they grew stronger. 

At some point, inviting Allen to work out together turned into a daily event and Lenalee's brunches started up when Allen's parties did. Kanda slowly but surely got used to a life without Alma, and one that revolved around Allen.  It still hurt sometimes, like any old scar, but somehow, with Allen— Allen and his heartbreakingly genuine smiles, his way of knowing when not to ask questions, and how no matter how Kanda tried, he could never break past that infallible strength Allen held onto— it felt a little more bearable. Like something he could survive.

Like something he  _wanted_  to survive.

So why the  _fuck_ was he daydreaming about kissing Howard Link?

He left Link's apartment in a frenzy, closing the door behind him so hard the angry slam likely reverberated throughout the entire hallway. No time to worry about that. Something inside him was screaming to get away, get away while he still could, while he still had that shred of self-control keeping him from pinning Link up against the corner and kissing him raw.

He stepped out onto the street, damp ponytail whipping behind him, and back into the rain. What had once seemed like a torrential downpour he now hardly felt it all, too wrapped up in his own head to give a fuck about his wet clothes, the water streaming down his face, or the cold chill that was settling deep into his bone.

Fucking Link was one thing. He could deal with that. Link was pretty hot, all things considered. Distractingly hot.

Kanda had been this close to letting go. To closing that distance and kissing Link because he wanted to.

As simply as that.

He wanted to kiss Link.

Standing there, hair dark and wet, eyes wide with a barely-there tremor, the flush resulting from his own clumsiness spreading from his cheeks, to his ears, to where Kanda knew, by now, would turn the nape of his neck red. He wanted to sweep Link's hair away, tucking it over one shoulder, laying a kiss there, and on the side of his neck, and on his jaw and cheek and his temple and on his lips, bringing him close. 

It was soft and stupid and painfully familiar; familiar in that he'd imagined this same scenario a thousand times, only with Allen, not Link. And there was no way he could reconcile that thought— the thought that what he felt for Allen could be in any way applied to his fucking sham of a relationship with Link. 

What he couldn't forget, what he couldn't allow himself to let go of, was that none of this was real.

There was no reason to kiss Link where no one could see. There was even less reason to walk him home, as if Kanda was really worried. And the more he thought back over the last week, the less and less reason showed up at all. The texts, the hand holding, the thoughts and half-remembered dreams — none of it belonged to Link. None of it was supposed to be there.

If he really thought about it, it all started after Tokusa put all those fucking thoughts in his head. Before then, Kanda had been perfectly fine. Before, Kanda had thought only of Allen, in the empty spaces and even when he was busy and in the moments before he fell asleep. Sentimental stupid thoughts that had started two years ago and never went away.

These thoughts of Link had to go away. They weren't the same. They couldn't be.

Kanda couldn't dwell on this anymore. He'd made a fucking mistake the past weekend, and it was something that needed to be rectified.

He loved Allen. Softly, embarrassingly, earnestly. And whatever he felt for Link hadn't cheapened or lessened that— he knew that for sure. Sure, there was a physical attraction. But that had to be it. Just blind, unthinking lust. Link was attractive and available and willing, and Kanda was lonely and horny — it made  _sense_. 

Link was hot, Tokusa had put these thoughts in his head, thoughts of Link tied up, moaning, writhing and bucking beneath Kanda. Maybe that was all it was. It'd been a long time since Kanda had last fucked someone. Too much pent up energy, too long. It was fucking with his head. All he had to do was get rid of it.

Just screw Howard Link and be done with him.

By the time he made it home he was thoroughly soaked, pissed off, and sexually frustrated. He took a shower that did nothing to calm him down and resolved to forget the whole damn thing until he could talk to Link face to face again.

Kanda threw a pair of sweatpants on and went to bed, and if Link's mouth made a few guest appearances in his dreams, well, then that was his business and his alone.


	7. Chapter 7

"You should quit," Allen said, poking around into Link's open fruit container with a fork and spearing a purple grape. Link rolled his eyes, looking equally miffed at both the suggestion and Allen's petty thievery of his food.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said loftily, twisting the cap on his bottle of water and settling it between his knees. "I like my job."

It was about noon, and they were eating lunch together out on the steps outside Link's office building. Things at his firm had become somewhat hectic over the last week in anticipation of an important court date, inciting Link's superiors to cut the usual hour-long lunch break down to a half hour. This made Link and Allen's usual restaurant days a little harder to swing by.

Link sat as properly as he would in a chair, feet flat on a step below him and lunch carefully arranged around him. He'd brought fruits that Allen had snagged from the get-go and a sandwich Link had only managed to eat a quarter of so far. Allen sat mere inches away, lounging on the steps in a way that had Link sighing in exasperation. Allen grinned cheekily.

They were so close that, if Allen shifted enough, he could've laid his head-on Link's lap. It was at just the right angle, and Allen imagined a nap in the sun would feel amazing. Even better would've been Link's hands in his hair, brushing it aside, simply touching.

Thoughts like these made lunch with Link exceptionally harder to achieve as simply friends, but Allen was a good actor. Link didn't help though, prone to careless comments and gestures as he was. Like the container of fruit Allen was slowly but surely eating through.

The clouds had dispersed throughout the sky, the sky tinted a bright, almost saccharinely beautiful blue, vibrant against the slate clouds. Overhead, Allen played at counting the sunbeams he could see dropping out of the sky, streaking towards the earth like glass hanging down from a chandelier. He saw twelve before his vision began to spot on him.

"You're doing the work of like, four employees and you know it," Allen protested. He reached back into Link's lunch for a slice of watermelon, and once again, Link frowned without making any real effort to stop him. "I heard you collapsed a few days ago, you know? I was worried."

He stopped, then, embarrassed by the soft undertone that had crept into his voice without his permission. He swallowed hard, averting his eyes from Link's gaze and busying himself with his stolen fruit.

"Like you have any right to scold me," Link said, speaking in that tone that was so completely  _him_ , contrite and exasperated and terribly, painfully fond. Though Allen's eyes were focused firmly on his food, he could feel Link's staring him down, too gentle, too present, too many  _almosts_ for Allen to count.  "After all, how many times have I said the same to you? You're awful at taking care of yourself— and you know I worry sick."

"Anyways," Allen continued, forcing himself to smile even though something inside of him suddenly felt it was twisting into knots, "there are plenty of good jobs for legal assistants in the city. You don't need to stick it out here if, you know, you're not happy."

Then, Link smiled, a rare soft expression Allen seldom saw, but always treasured. While it was not quite a full-on smile, it was something close. Something light and relaxed and indescribably gentle, a reminder that, behind the armour of his pressed jacket and clipped words, Link was still quite young. It looked good on him, this expression, as good as any well-cut suit, and Allen was already dreading the moment it would disappear.  "I have everything I could want or need here. There's no reason for me to leave."

For one impossibly beautiful moment, Allen met Link's eyes. As if Link had stripped his heart bare, Allen could see the sweetest warmth, like the lingering taste of watermelon, and under the summer sun Allen grew flustered, tearing his gaze away hastily. 

Silly thoughts crowded in his head, distracted him. Thoughts that what Link really meant was that he had a reason to stay, and even more that the reason was Allen himself. That Link packed more food than he actually ate, knowing Allen would pick from it, because he thought of Allen more and more, like Allen thought of him. That Link sat so close to him even in the summer heat because he wanted to be by Allen, close enough that the expression in his gaze was unmistakable. Tender unbearable warmth that curled Allen's toes and left his cheeks flushed.

But, they were just thoughts. Thoughts that had been proven wrong many times over. If Allen really read into Link's words, he was probably talking about Kanda. Who Link loved. 

Allen pressed the back of his hand against his cheek in an effort to hide his embarrassment, laughing lightly. "No reason to, right," he murmured, filling the silence that had lasted too long already.

Link picked his water bottle back up and offered it to Allen wordlessly, like some kind of baton. Allen accepted it. Their fingers brushed, and Allen's neck began to feel hot. Link frowned, moving forward to brush his fingers against the side of Allen's cheek.

"Perhaps you should move into the shade. You look a little red, and I wouldn't want for you to risk a sunburn on my account."

"I'll be fine," Allen forced a laugh, curling up into himself and moving away from Link's touch. He took a sip of water, trying not think something juvenile about  _indirect kisses_ , then had another bite of the watermelon, snatching a final chunk of pineapple as Link unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. Allen took advantage of the moment to regain his composure, letting out a long, steady breath as he pushed away the lingering sensation of Link's hand against his cheek, against his fingers. "You... really are a worrywart, aren't you?"

Link looked bemused. "Only when it comes to you."

"Oh," Allen said, and then all thoughts of composure were gone, evaporating like rain against sunlight. There was something about Link's open, unadorned sincerity that made him feel completely defenseless. 

"I suppose that's one of the reasons I like this job," Link went on, either oblivious to Allen's mortification or simply letting an unknown sadistic streak run wild. "It's so close to you, after all. Sets my mind at ease. You know, if I did accept a position at a different firm, we likely wouldn't be able to do this anymore, right?" He gestured between the both of them vaguely, the fruit cup at his side, the sandwich on his lap, their bodies close, practically pressed-up thigh to thigh. "I wouldn't like that. The lunch hours would certainly be emptier without you."

 _God,_  Allen thought, his grip around Link's water bottle growing vice-tight.  _You're killing me, Link._

Suddenly, Link frowned, reaching over to Allen. Allen stilled, holding his breath as the tip of Link's fingers grazed his nape, sending shivers down his spine. Thumb resting firmly on the side of Allen's neck, Link tucked his fingers under Allen's collar and drew down, straightening it, thumb following the curve until he rested his hand lightly on Allen's collarbone. Without thinking Allen's hand jerked forward, but his fingers only lightly rested on Link's wrist. Glancing up, he met and held Link's eyes, and the urge to just lean in, to twist his hand and interlace his fingers with Link's, to scoot those minute inches closer, until their thighs were pressed flushed together, to rest his hand on Link's chest and kiss him, tasting like sweet summer fruit, was so powerful that Allen did lean forward, face tilting up.

Instead, he thoughtlessly squeezed Link's water bottle, the sharp crack of plastic startling them apart.

"Your collar," Link blurted into the tense silence, looking down to his lap and realizing his sandwich had skewed apart. He methodically placed it back together. "It was folded wrong."

"Ah," Allen mumbled, a response so stupid he was tempted to walk down the steps, into the street, and pray for a painless death. Mortified, he rearranged himself on the steps just to do something, sitting properly and drawing his knees up, bouncing the water bottle on the palm of his hand nervously.

They sat more or less out of the way on the wide steps, and there were one or two others also soaking up the summer sun on their lunch break. The sidewalk below had the occasional pedestrian, and slowly Allen stilled, hazily wondering what they saw when they glanced at them.

Did they see coworkers? Friends?

Did they look like lovers, sitting so closely, eating from the same meal, flushed head to toe?

He hoped they didn't.

He hoped they did.

And because he hated himself, Allen opened his mouth and asked, "So how're things with Kanda?"

Link looked somewhat taken aback by the question, face jerking from his food to face Allen directly. He pursed his lips, eyes creasing around the corners as if the question was somewhat an unpleasant one— and what if it  _was_ an unpleasant one? How would he feel, Allen wondered, if things weren't going well between Link and Kanda? 

"Kanda... has been well," Link demurred. He plucked at his sandwich, lifted it as if to take a bite, then abruptly set it back down. He seemed to be deep in thought. After a beat of silence, his voice broke through again, abrupt and somewhat mechanical. "He took me back to his place when I was ill."

"That was good of him," Allen offered. Link nodded emptily, though the look in his eyes was inexplicably forlorn.

"It was. I appreciated it."

Link's face twisted, and he traced the edge of the wrapping paper, a sheer crackle of noise that filled the silence. Allen wondered what it meant that just mentioning Kanda brought this expression to Link's face, as if he was torn.

Allen inhaled sharply, attempting to mask the sound. It hit him all at once that he felt disgustingly pleased. He couldn't even enjoy a simple lunch with Link or his runs with Kanda anymore without this echoing heartbreak. It served them right that things were rocky now.

Then, on his exhale, he looked at Link's face and the feeling broke and crumbled. There was nothing to enjoy here, or to revel in. 

Link and Kanda didn't deserve his selfish self-pity. 

"Recently," Link said, startling Allen. "I've been... confused. Or— I don't know. Perhaps that's the root of it all." He smiled again, but it was thin and brittle, leagues away from the soft expression he'd given Allen earlier, and just as far away was the look in his eyes, focused straight ahead on nothing at all.

Tentatively, Allen reached out, maybe to touch Link's shoulder, or his elbow. Something. But he dropped his hand and turned the bottle he still held over, staring at its label blankly. Link so rarely opened up that Allen was afraid that he'd do something wrong and Link would close him off again, and more than his love or his affection, Allen desperately didn't want to lose the trust and connection they had.

So instead, he quietly asked, "Confused about what?"

Matching his smile, Link's short laugh was just as empty. "It's hard to explain. I don't even quite know myself. But the feeling is there." Abruptly, Link sat straight, rubbing his palms briskly over his pants and finally looking at Allen. Slowly, he stilled, and meeting Allen's gaze he said, in a voice so tiny Allen strained to hear it, "I'm not entirely sure what I want anymore."

Allen was rarely out of the loop on things, but there was an underlying current in Link's words, as if he was trying to tell him something that Allen just wasn't understanding. Grasping at straws, Allen said, "Is this about your job? Because—"

"It's not about work," Link said bluntly, with such confidence that Allen's mouth snapped shut. Then, his eyes fell away, and he repeated himself so softly as to be somewhat apologetic. "It's not that."

He wrapped his sandwich back up neatly, though Allen wasn't exactly sure whether he'd lost his appetite or simply needed something to do with his hands. He lifted his gaze again after a long moment, and when his eyes met Allen's, they were clear and focused, more raw and genuine than Allen had seen him in a long, long time. He let out a last laugh, just this quiet breath of a thing that filled the space between them with low, desperate sound.

"It doesn't really matter," Link continued. He smiled wanly. "I... I'm just glad to see you. Today is a good day. I don't want to ruin that."

"You haven't ruined anything," Allen said gently, still fighting the urge to reach across the gap and take Link's hands in his. Link shrugged.

"That's certainly a relief." He reached down, picked his unfinished food back up, and offered it to Allen. "Would you care to finish this for me?"

For all that Link was pretending he was okay, he still felt alarmingly distant and closed off, now. Allen took the sandwich, unwrapped it, and bit into it, tasting nothing.

He wracked his mind in an effort to bring back Link's smile, or at the very least brighten the somber mood he was attempting to play off.

"I'm sorry," Allen said, and Link stilled in the middle of repacking his lunch.

"For what?" Link asked, puzzled.

Allen gestured vaguely with the hand holding the sandwich, thrilled when Link looked less pensive and more exasperated at the gesture. "For barging in. On Sunday. Between you and... Kanda," Allen said, a tad hesitant that bringing him back up would bring back Link's dour mood. Apparently, he needn't have worried, because Link's expression lightened considerably. The hard line of his brow relaxed, and this time, when he smiled, it seemed to come from someplace real.

"Interrupt whenever you want," he said, his tone somehow urgent, tone crackling sharp with a warm vigour. "I'm always glad to see you, and I know Kanda feels the same."

Allen smiled again, though the slow bloom of happiness in his stomach was somewhat dampened by jealousy. Though it was a relief, of course, to know he was wanted, there was something strangely embittering about Link's statement: the hidden we within, the way Link could speak for him.  _Me and Kanda._  Allen forced himself to press on, his coy smile never wavering, not for a second. "Still, I'd rather not interrupt you two while you two are getting, um,  _intimate_."

This, at least, was true enough. It was bad enough that Allen was stuck imagining what the two of them looked like entangled — he doubted he could survive even a glimpse of the real deal. Link flushed in embarrassment.

"What?" Link laughed, covering his mouth. "No— no, that's not. We're not." He paused, looking upset with himself before firmly saying, "You're very mistaken." He saw the look on Allen's face and reiterated,  _"Mistaken._  We weren't doing  _anything_ before you came."

Despite the topic and the way Allen's heart twisted, he still grinned, amused. "So the night before you  _were_  doing something?"

"That's not what I meant!" Link cried and Allen laughed. "This isn't funny, Walker!"

"It's  _very_ funny, Link," Allen said, grinning, but what he was really thinking was that a flustered Link was far too cute to pass up on. Still, as endearing as it was, Link was getting incredibly worked up over it. Taking pity, Allen feigned thirst and sipped some water from the nearly empty bottle, allowing Link a moment to gather his bearings. Capping it, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands dangling casually between them. "Still, I don't want to... be intrusive."

Link's lips pressed thinly together, still a bit worked up, but then he sighed, reaching for the bottle. Allen easily held it out, but Link took it in one hand and grasped Allen's with the other, squeezing it. Allen stiffened, but didn't pull away.

"I meant what I said," Link began softly, staring at their hands, caressing the side of Allen's hand with his thumb, soothing. "You're always welcome, no matter where."

It was so unexpected that something in Allen quietly crumbled and gave way, and his heart thudded painfully, eyes locked on the expression in Link's gaze. 

It was moments like these that chipped at Allen's mask.

The temptation to speak, to say what he really wanted, felt, rioted inside him, almost won, but Allen bit down on the impulsive words and thoughts, knowing that whatever this was, whatever Allen felt, was all terribly, horribly, unrequited.

 _I'm in love with you,_ Allen thought, staring at Link hard in the eyes. The thought was just bursting inside of him, rattling down through his bones with a dull echo, shaking him to the core — possessing him with such intoxicating power that he was paradoxically tempted to laugh. _I'm in love with you. And I'm in love with Kanda. And that's my fucking problem. Not yours._

"That means a lot to me," Allen said instead, because it felt good to say something that was true, with all this wasted love beating and thrumming inside of him like a second heart. "Thank you. And the same goes for you." 

 _I dream about kissing you, touching you, being touched by you, holding and being held._  

"You two are... like family to me, you know?" 

_Link, if you kissed me right now, I would let you. I'd take you back home, work be damned, and I'd kiss you until I lost my mind, and it'd be terrible and it'd be perfect, because somehow, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop wanting you, wanting you the way I want Kanda: completely, madly, with me, always._

"And you two make such a great couple. Honestly, I'm glad the three of us can all just hang out normally, without any awkwardness."

 _Maybe this is crazy or selfish or just plain stupid but I dream of being with you two, between the both of you, being wanted the same way I want you both, laughing like everything's alright and taking you back home_ —

"—You know what, why don't you guys come back to my place on Saturday?"  _It'll be two weeks, on that day_. "I mean, you've been working nonstop. Consider it a chance to relax. I feel like I don't see either of you often enough anymore." A laugh.  _I haven't been able to stop thinking about you two since._  "Not that that's your fault, of course. I mean, you two have obligations."  _To each other._

Link's hold on him shifted, just slightly, but Allen was so hyperaware that his voice faltered instantly, breaking and growing quiet.

Hesitantly, knowing that the moment he did something would break, Allen met Link's eyes again.

_'It's hard to explain. I don't even quite know myself. But the feeling is there.'_

What was it? What was that expression in Link's eyes supposed to mean? Allen was wrong, had been wrong, was still stupidly seeing whatever he wanted in Link's gaze. 

But the feeling was there. 

As if it was nothing, like it was the easiest thing to do, like Allen wasn't mired so deep he couldn't see anything for Link, he took Allen's hand and interlaced their fingers, pulling as if he wanted Allen even closer.

Link's smile was so beautiful it stole Allen's breath, and all he could think was that he was in love, in love, in love.

The world slowed down and all Allen could feel, hear, was the painful thudding of his heart, in his fingertips where Link cradled them, in his ears, a sound so loud that Allen would've missed Link's words if he wasn't hanging off of each one.

"We'd love to come over."

 

* * *

 

There was another habit Allen had resolutely ignored but nonetheless persisted in.

He stared mutely at his cabinet, glancing over black labels and amber bottles, some full, some half-empty, and some barely there.

He still kept this cabinet more or less stocked, despite not being much of a drinker himself. Today, he was relieved for that.

 _Clearly,_  Allen thought, reaching for a particularly clear looking bottle, _I was out of my damn mind when I invited Kanda and Link here._

In less than an hour they'd be there. Link and Kanda. In his apartment. Just the three of them.

He let loose an incredulous little laugh, almost as if it came from someone else. What the hell had he been thinking?

Taking the bottle, Allen set it on his counter and brought down his shot glasses, deliberating. 

He'd been alone with the two of them once before, and that had gone fine. Granted, it had been an unexpected situation, but a comfortable one nonetheless. Just the three of them seated at Kanda's small table, making idle talk over breakfast, existing in the same space as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If it had been fine then, why shouldn't it be the same now?

It was the anticipation that was getting to him, Allen reasoned. He screwed the cap off an acrid-smelling bottle of white rum, and then, regretting his decision, twisted it back on. Just stupid, senseless nerves. Leftover heartache from yesterday's run-in with Link.

He'd break for a smoke, but the thought of Link or Kanda smelling it on him was an unpleasant one. Still, he tapped his fingers erratically on the countertop, chewing on his lip.

There was nothing to be worried about. It'd be fine.

Link had said Allen was always welcome, no matter what. It would be downright unfair if Allen couldn't pull himself together and offer him that same courtesy.

He could bite his feelings back, at least for one evening. 

Allen twisted the cap off again, simply rapping the metallic edge of it, making the sound just for the sake of filling his empty ghostly apartment with  _something._

He glanced down into the bottle hesitantly, watching with a detached curiosity as bubbles crawled up the side of the glass, the liquor inside deceptively clear and seemingly harmless save for the foul scent it gave off.

He wasn't much a drinker, sure, but he'd make an exception tonight. Just to calm himself down. He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out a case of Coke and a lime, reaching for a knife to sloppily, gracelessly cut himself a twist. He fixed himself a rum and Coke with the leftover Bacardi, skewing the ratio terribly and ending up with a drink that was just barely tolerable in its final product. Still, he sipped at it all the same, back pressed hard against the counter, eyes fixed upon the door with obsessive interest.

Though he was taking things as slowly as he felt he could, his first glass was empty all too soon, and the warm buzz that had overtaken his stomach was quickly threatened by the ebb of restless nerves that came with having nothing do with his hands. He fixed himself another, and was pleased to find the taste had improved when he raised it to his lips for a first, tentative sip — either he'd improved the ratio this time around, or he'd simply grown accustomed to the sharp flavour.

By his third drink, a lax, blessed mellowness had finally come over him, filling his bones with a pleasant heaviness and his head with a crackle of cool, numbing static. He felt good. Great. Better than he'd felt in weeks.

Belatedly, he realized he'd lost track of time. Hunting around for his phone, he found it carelessly tossed on the sofa, and he sat heavily down, working around his password with some difficulty, but managing.

There was a message from Link, sent several minutes ago.

[Link, 6:12 PM]: We're on our way. Is there anything we should bring?

_We._

Allen stared at the message, rolling the word around, thinking about what it meant.

All this pretending business was incredibly stupid. Put simply and plainly, Allen was jealous. Slumping against the arm of the couch, he struggled to type a message of some coherence back to Link.

[Allen, 6:27 PM]: whatevr drinks you dont think ill ave, i guess!! just hurry up and get over here!!

[Allen, 6:27 PM]: whtever*

[Allen, 6:27 PM]: whateer*

[Allen, 6:28 PM]: ahg you know what i mean

He tossed his phone back to the sofa and gracefully swung to a stand, meandering back over to the drink he'd abandoned. The clink of ice in his glass was alarmingly loud, and Allen blinked at the silence. He'd never really noticed it, but it felt oppressive now, demanding. 

Taking his glass with him, Allen crossed his living room to fiddle with the speakers, putting whatever, anything, just something on. He normally just left it on to any given station, a type of white noise to fill the silence. It was a love song, like most were, crooning words and lilting voice. If Allen knew the words he would've sung along.

Long ago, he'd listened to records on an old player, scratchy and stuffed with scattered noise, but rounded at the edges and filling a room with life. Later he'd lost it between one place or another, and he'd never had the heart to buy a replacement. His sentimentality had been scoffed at, but he didn't think he'd ever find another player just the same, with all the bumps and nicks and scratches.

This was why he didn't drink, Allen thought, staring at his reflection in the opaque surface of his glass. He was a bit of a sad drunk. Not that he was drunk. At least, not yet.

As it was, he sipped more of the rum and coke, finding it a little more pleasant with the love song in the background.

At the sound of a rap at his door, Allen's heart jumped up into his throat. He forced it back down into his chest with a quick, heavy sip of his drank, slamming the nearly emptied glass down onto the kitchen counter before wandering towards the door to answer it.

He swung the door open, met their startled eyes, and everything — the thoughts of sharp liquor and rounded love songs, empty apartments and aching for cigarettes — it all vanished, swallowed into something not quite silence, but like the dead air after a record's finished playing. 

Ambience that filled all those empty spaces.

Link and Kanda in his doorway brought another bout of sudden realization, one that had him stalled as he stared at them. He'd never been alone with just the two of them at his place before. 

Not that it  _should_ make a difference, because he was their friend, and he'd invited them just for a good time. Or something. It was a little hard to remember what good reason he'd ever had to instigate any of this in the first place.

Maybe it was just the rum, but he could've sworn they looked better than ever; Link looking crisply beautiful with his sharp brows, dark eyes, and white button-down open at the throat, Kanda almost infuriatingly effortless in his beauty, dressed down in a plain v-neck and jeans. For an embarrassing moment, Allen could feel himself staring openly, perhaps obviously, simply overwhelmed by the thrill of being alone with two of the most gorgeous men he'd ever met; overwhelmed by all that he  _wanted_ , wanted to  _touch_. If did, by some miracle, ever have the chance to put his hands on them, he'd scarcely know where to start.

"Well," Allen said. He leaned against the doorframe, forehead brushing against the cool wooden paneling of the threshold. In his happiness, he felt inexplicably shy — or maybe  _bashful_ would be a more accurate word. There was something warm and sensual and coy in it, like it was for his own pleasure at seeing them that he could barely stand to show his face. He smiled, sweet and vague, eyes still roaming over the both of them in wordless adoration. "Hi."

Kanda scowled, stepping closer to Link, to Allen, to peer at his face. Allen restrained the impulse to grab Kanda by his shirt and bring him even closer to an aborted movement that drew Link's eyes. "Are you drunk?"

Link frowned, reaching forward as if touching Allen's face would somehow confirm it, and Allen laughed, avoiding the gesture.

"Noooo," he drawled, pulling away and mimicking Kanda's scowl. At Link's cocked brow, he acquiesced, affecting a somber expression, "...but I might be just a  _bit_ tipsy."

"Is there even a relevant distinction?" Link asked quite archly, and Allen laughed. How could he not laugh? Link was adorable like this, always so terribly  _serious_.

"Trust me," Allen said, mock-gravely, swinging his body away from the door and back into the apartment in one push. His whole body felt wonderfully light and pliant, and if he'd recognized the beat playing on the radio right then, he might've pulled Link and Kanda into a sloppy, senseless dance. He laughed again at the very thought — Kanda and Link?  _Dancing_? The thought was so absurd as to be endearing. "You'll know when I'm drunk _."_

Kanda crossed the threshold first, something Allen recognized by the sound of his footsteps alone, followed closely by Link. The door swished shut, enclosing them in this tiny bubble of love songs and rum. The station changed tracks into something Allen recognized and he brightened, drifting back over to his counter and humming thoughtlessly along.

"I've never heard you sing," Link said, and Allen blinked, looking up from where he was contemplating what drinks to make. Kanda was watching Allen closely, expression unreadable in the way it grew when he felt something intensely. It was a cute little trait, one Kanda thought shielded him off but actually exposed him, in that the absence of emotion hinted at something even more.

"See?" Allen said, winking playfully. "There's a distinction after all."

"That you somehow talk even more?" Kanda asked dryly, making himself at home on Allen's sofa and throwing his arms across the back. It only sat three people, a thought Allen couldn't quite ignore as Link made his way to follow Kanda. 

Allen frowned at him and crossed his arms, forgetting the drink in his hands until it nearly tipped over, inciting another laugh from him and an amused look from Link. "You're so mean," Allen said distractedly, drinking what would've spilled. He licked his lips and regarded Kanda through his glass, smiling at that expression in Kanda's dark eyes. "But not so witty, right Link?"

He looked startled at being addressed, and Allen lowered his glass to the counter to fully appreciate his face. Falling into something wry, Link said, "Certainly not as witty as he thinks he is."

Kanda said something scathing in return, a remark Allen didn't notice as he picked his glass back up, taking it with him as he wandered towards the liquor cabinet, eyes jumping over the selection of dark, glassy bottles.

"I'd be a bad host if I didn't offer my guests a drink," he said, glancing back at Link and Kanda and offering them what he hoped would be a charming smile. Perhaps he succeeded, too, because Link seemed to relax at this, the taut line of concern drawn into his brow smoothing out into a quizzical bemusement.

"Just a glass of water for me," he said, finally taking a seat beside Kanda, leaning towards him. "I'll be driving back home tonight. Plus, I've recently come to the realization that I have the tendency to make poor decisions while under the influence."

Kanda frowned. He jabbed Link sharply in the ribs with his elbow, and although Allen didn't really understand why, he laughed all the same.

"Honestly?" Allen said. "So do I."

Another laugh shook through him, softer than the last, like an aftershock. His eyes slid over Link's frame and towards Kanda, who still seemed a little wary. That wouldn't do at all, Allen thought. After all, Kanda looked his best when his guard was down. When he'd  _gentled_ , as rare as that was — ah, or perhaps it was only rare for Allen. Who was to say how much of Kanda's tenderness Link had been privy to? Allen took another pull of his drink, drowning a hot stab of jealousy in the cold tang of Bacardi, cola, and ice.

"What about you, Kanda? Can I get you something?" Allen said. Then, before Kanda could answer, he smiled. This was a private, knowing smile. "Wait, wait, wait. Let me guess. A gin and tonic."

"Feeling nostalgic?" Kanda snorted, but he looked content, a glint of warm light reaching his eyes. There was the beginning of it, the infinitesimally slow start of Kanda thawing. Allen reached down for a small, unopened bottle of gin.

"Hard to avoid," he said, weighing a drink he never indulged in, because it was filled to the brim with memories. "You and gin, it's a kinda... a kinda involuntary association. I can't even drink gin myself anymore, not without thinking of you."

"You  _know_ I prefer tequila," Kanda insisted stubbornly, and Allen shrugged, feeling his way back towards the kitchen to fix Kanda his drink.

"I know, I know. But the association's still there," Allen said, pulling a tray of ice out of the freezer and dropping it onto the counter. He cracked the cubes free and found a tall glass for Link and Kanda both, dropping several into each and some into his cup for a refill.

He poured Link's water first, relishing the nearly painful crackling of ice as the tepid water hit it, and then fixed Kanda's drink, remembering the first time Kanda had ever bared any piece of himself for Allen to see. 

They were talking quietly to each other, snippets Allen missed between the daze he'd settled in and the love song still filling the spaces of his apartment. Still, he carried their drinks over, Link cutting Kanda a sharp look to silence whatever he was about to say.

Allen debated asking, but figured it wasn't worth the fight. 

Remembering he'd left his drink, Allen drifted back the counter, topping it back up and carrying it over. 

Link had shifted to be more comfortable now, and the space between him and Kanda was just wide enough for Allen to fit snugly. Without much thought, Allen slotted himself between them, smiling lopsidedly as he slumped back against the edge of the couch. It felt nice, being here between them, pressed up between Link's thigh and Kanda's bicep. Perfectly warm and comfortable and good, like he'd been made to fit there, between the boys he loved.

Link shifted slightly, maybe uncomfortable, and scooted a little further towards the side to give Allen some more space. Kanda, too, was gently retreating, pressing his back up against the arm rest and turning his head to the side — that perfect, comfortable moment of being so absolutely tucked against them was over, and Allen almost sighed out loud, missing that warmth.

Instead, he tipped his head back, paradoxically addressing the stucco pattern of the ceiling rather than Link as he asked, "So, how did your case go?"

"My case?" Link echoed uncertainly. Allen hummed, straightening up to take another long drink. Beside him Kanda finally took a sip, condensation slipping off his glass to land on Allen's arm. Allen rubbed the chill away absent-mindedly.

"Yeah, the big, important one. The one Leverrier was working you to death over," Allen muttered, thinking of the short breaks and the way Link had apparently even  _missed work_  because of the overload. 

"For the last time,” Link sighed, running a hand down his face, "he has  _not_ been working me to death." Against his side, Allen could feel Kanda leaning in with interest.

Allen looked up, meeting Kanda's eyes across the too-short distance and felt his moment of hesitation as he focused on Allen. Shaking it off, Kanda said, "You collapsed in the middle of the fucking office. I'd say that's close enough."

Link spluttered, setting his glass of water down roughly on the coffee table to pin Kanda with an indignant look. However, Allen had just registered Kanda's words.

"That's right" he said, glancing at Link in dismay. "You  _collapsed!_ That's not okay! Do you know how worried I was? I thought my heart was going to stop!" Allen rounded on Link, gesturing with one arm and again forgetting the cup in his hand. Kanda cursed and grabbed at it, and Allen let him, glaring at Link.

Link seemed at a loss for words, staring at Allen in shock. Allen continued, gaining steam, "I was  _this_ close to dropping everything at work to go make sure you were fine. You could have at least texted me you were okay! It wasn't until Tewaku told Lenalee and  _she_ told me that I finally heard anything about you."

In the space Allen took to finally breathe, Link finally managed a tiny, "I didn't realize."

Pausing, Allen scrutinized Link, taking in the hesitant way Link met his eyes. "Didn't realize what?"

Link swallowed, glancing down to his hands in his lap. "That you were so worried. I would've called you, or at the very least sent word myself. If I could have," Link tacked on, giving Kanda a look.

"You don't even know the extent of it," Kanda snorted, taking another drink. Allen twisted to face him, silently prompting him for more. He pointed with the finger wrapped around his glass, and Allen focused on Link again.

"It wasn't as bad as Kanda's making it out to be," Link reassured, grasping Allen's hand to squeeze it. He gave a little smile. "I'm fine now, really. Kanda made sure of it."

 _He's such a liar,_  Allen thought, reaching with his free hand towards Link. He passed his fingertips just under Link's eyes, ignoring the way Link stilled and held his breath, or the ice clinking in Kanda's glass as he lowered his drink. "You work so much," Allen mourned, tracing the curve of Link's cheek until his hand fell. The both of them, constantly sending Allen's heart into a frenzy. "More than Kanda, even, and  _he's_ a workaholic."

"Hey," Kanda interjected, scowling. Then, leaning close enough that his hair brushed Allen's shoulder, Kanda said vindictively, "He's full of shit. I had to carry him in from the car. He was completely knocked out."

"What?" Allen exclaimed, and when his eyes jumped to scrutinize Link's face, Link was pink in the cheeks. Allen looked from Link to Kanda, his moment of tenderness put on hold in favour of satisfying his curiosity. "How'd you carry him? Wasn't he heavy?"

"Hey," Link interjected weakly, but Kanda rolled his eyes and pressed on, lips lifting into a wry smile.

"Not really. I just kinda scooped him up, princess-style," Kanda mocked the gesture with his arms and gave Allen dry smirk. "He fainted just like one."

"Wait, really?" Link said. When Allen turned back around to face Link, he saw that Link's brows had lifted into an expression of genuine surprise. 

"What, you didn't know?"

"Well. I wasn't exactly conscious," Link hedged, shifting a little in discomfort. "I remember... passing out in the office. Then, waking up in Kanda's bed. I suppose it only makes sense that he carried me. Strange that I never considered it."

"You were pretty out of it," Kanda said, then he turned to Allen, smirking, "So out of it, he didn't even notice when I took off his clothes."

Immediately, Allen could see it in his mind's eye. Link dressed down to nothing, laying among Kanda's sheets, hair loose and body warm and pliant. That soft expression Link sometimes wore, when he was particularly distracted, or endeared, as he reached out for Kanda. How lucky, Allen thought, reaching abruptly for the glass Kanda had confiscated. To have someone to sleep next to.

Allen couldn't remember the last time he'd slept next to someone, or even  _with_ someone, but that was definitely not something to think about with Kanda and Link there. He took a sip of his glass and found that the time apart from it had soured its taste immensely. Fiddling with it, Allen finally said, "That... was nice of you. Helping Link get comfortable."

"Yeah," Kanda snorted, taking a swig from his nearly empty drink. "The pleasure was all mine."

The way Kanda said it, it was obviously meant as a joke — but still. There was something there, something worth thinking over. Allen stared down at his glass, the dregs clinging to the misty sides, and ran through it all again. Link in Kanda's bed, stripped down, flush, Kanda climbing in by his side to meet them. Hands finding hands finding bodies through the soft, protective intimacy of the dark.

Sleeping next to each other. Sleeping with each other.

Allen lifted his glass up to the side of his face. It felt quite pleasantly cool against his face, which had grown unusually hot.

"You really did take... good care of him, didn't you?" Allen said gently. He put his glass down to rest on the table, eyes sliding up slowly to meet Kanda's, who was watching him with dark, narrow eyes. He was still smirking, smirking like someone with a secret, a secret Allen would very much like to hear.

"Sure," Kanda answered, somewhat abstractly. He set his own glass down, shifting forwards to sit a little closer to Allen. Enticed forwards.

"Good," Allen said staunchly, forcing less than positive feelings down. "Link deserves to be taken care of, since he won't do it himself."

Link went red, and tried to stammer some kind of rebuttal — and he very well might have succeeded, if Kanda hadn't swiftly cut him off, voice smooth and steady. 

"Oh, I know just how to take care of him."

Kanda's tone slipped into something less dry and more... suggestive. Instantly Allen's imagination was sparked, and he looked at Link again, curiosity sparked by all the possibilities Kanda's voice contained.

Distantly, he remembered the conversation they'd once had. If Link was slow and sweet. The type to be romantic.

Sitting beside Allen and flushed all the way to his ears, it certainly lent credence to it. He wondered what else flustered Link like this. What made his voice fail him and his hands tighten around Allen's, still thoughtlessly carelessly held by one of Link's.

Mouth dry, Allen licked his lips, savoring the way Link's eyes darted to his mouth, held, and then flittered away. "Tell me," he said, relishing how Link's fingers reacted around his. "How did you take care of him?”

Kanda pressed in closer, so close that Allen was nearly backed up against his chest. He leaned in, angling his face close to Allen's. Allen could feel Kanda's breath skating against the back of his neck, slow and hot.

"I carried him to bed," Kanda said, speaking against the curve of Allen's ear. "Back against the mattress, sheets open." He hands wound their way up Allen's back, smoothing over the plain cotton off his shirt, fingers catching over the outline of Allen's shoulder blades. At the suggestion of Kanda's nails digging into his back, Allen let out a soft sound, leaning in mindlessly to press further up against Link. At this, Link let out a gasp of his own — maybe out of surprise. Maybe not.

"I undid his braid," Kanda continued, and slowly, feeling like he was moving in a dream, Allen reached for a stand of Link's blonde hair, twirling it around his finger. He liked this position. He liked facing Link, nearly in his lap, so close they could kiss. He liked having Kanda close behind him, touching him, clever, calloused fingers working their way over Allen's body.

With an intuitive grace, Kanda's hands fell to Allen's waist, thumbing circles into curve of his hipbone. "Then I took his shirt off. That was slow-going. Link and his damned button-up shirts. Had to open it up button by button. Spread it and pulled it down his shoulders."

"Then?" Allen asked, voice coming out high and breathless. Kanda laughed, this low, dark murmur of a thing — and  _God_ , his voice was doing crazy, unreal things to Allen's stomach. "What did you do to him then?"

"Come on, what are you really asking?" Kanda's grip on Allen's hips grew a little tighter, almost painful. "Are you asking me how I  _take care_  of Link, or how I fuck him?"

Allen didn't say anything. He was breathing a little harder now, feeling like there was suddenly a little less air in the room. Like there was a little less air in the world. Instead of answering Kanda, he looked up at Link, finally taking stock of his expression. Link's face was red, his eyes wide with something between shock and panic; an anticipatory anxiety that had his chest heaving forward with heavy breaths, eyes bright, shaky hands desperately coming to rest on Allen's shoulders — whether this was to push Allen away or keep him close, Allen wasn't sure. Either way, Link didn't say a word to stop them. Didn't move an inch.

 Link's eyes were dilated, wide and locked on Allen's, and he could see the flash in them as Allen said, "Yeah." 

Kanda's words were almost a whisper against the shell of Allen's ear, inciting a shiver down his back that left him arching under Kanda's touch. "Yeah, what?"

Without answering, Allen reached forwards to trace the curve of Link's collarbone, made visible by the slipping collar of his slightly rumpled white shirt. Link's skin was warm and smooth to the touch. He thought about the marks he'd seen, the angry red bites and suck marks that had decorated Link's neck and shoulders last Sunday. 

He could see it so vividly that it felt impossibly real, a dizzying enticing mix of the first time he'd seen them together and the knowledge of how Link must've looked beneath Kanda, like he did now, red-faced and hands trembling, mouth soft and kissable. With Kanda against his back, it was easy to even replicate how hot his body was, how possessive, demanding — the near painful grip that left Allen's knees shifting, how it might feel on his wrists, in his hair, on his waist. 

Allen wanted. He wanted with every fiber of his being to know, intimately, wholly, entirely, what it felt like. 

But even to himself, he couldn't admit whether it was Link or Kanda he was jealous of, only that he was, a fiery all-encompassing sensation that encouraged the clear voice in which he said, "Tell me how you fuck him."

His own voice came back to him then, and with sudden clarity Allen realized how loud and desperate he sounded, how shameless. He could see it in Link's lips parting slightly, a hint of teeth and tongue, and felt it in the way Kanda's hands reacted on him, squeezing. Flushed and incredibly aroused, Allen made to turn but Kanda's grip on him stilled him. 

Link's hands on his shoulders drifted down with Allen's movement, resting just over his collarbones, and just as Allen had Link parted the collar of his shirt, spreading it further apart. 

Kanda's teeth on his earlobe startled Allen into nearly crying out, and the best he could manage was a stifled wordless moan. Satisfied he had Allen's attention back, Kanda's hands drifted from his hips to his waist, moving so close to Allen that the space between them was nearly nonexistent. 

"If I were fucking Link," Kanda murmured, and Allen watched as Link's eyes snapped to just over his shoulder, surely meeting Kanda's. He should've felt like an outsider, caught between them like this, but with Kanda's hands moving restlessly on him and the tight grip Link had on him, not pushing or pulling but keeping Allen there, as if afraid he might somehow vanish, he felt very much like he belonged, not as an observer, but as a participant.

He felt  _wanted._

"I'd get him to lie down on his stomach," Kanda finally said, arms looping around Allen's waist so that his hands grazed over the twitching slate of his stomach. He held Allen tight against him, his body pressed up flush while still staring dead ahead to meet Link's look of uncertain desire. "I'd kiss and bite my way all the way down his back. Work him over until he's begging for it."

Kanda's hands fell to Allen's thighs, touching, squeezing, coaxing them apart. There was no way, Allen realized with a flush of mixed shame and excitement, that he didn't notice Allen was hard. In fact, Kanda seemed to be deliberately toying with him, now, hands roaming over his body freely, touching everywhere and everything but never once the hot brand of Allen's cock straining against his jeans.

Link's gaze was heavy on him, tracing every bit of Allen that Kanda touched, exposed, Allen's knees spreading apart and chest rising and falling under the thin fabric of his shirt, and Allen was still fully clothed but like this he felt obscenely exposed, Link's eyes alone more intimate than any other moment they'd shared. 

"Link has a sensitive back, you know." Kanda's hands slid beneath Allen's shirt, up over his belly and chest, and Allen let out a breathy little gasp. "The nape of his neck, too."

"His neck?" Allen breathed, struggling to focus or even collect his thoughts outside of  _ohfuckKanda_  and the sensation of his hands on his skin. 

Link's eyes were pinned on Allen's face, watching him, he realized. Watching Allen react to Kanda, and his words and his touch and his voice. He thought of those blossoming red marks on Link, so perfectly framed by all that blond hair, and he wanted, wanted, wanted.

Allen reached out hesitantly, almost shyly, and touched the side of Link's neck. With a barely-there lightness, he dragged his fingernails down to the slope of his shoulders, earning him a sharp intake of breath and a hazy, almost pained expression. 

"Yeah, that's it," Kanda hummed in appreciation. Then, low, "You should try it with your mouth. Drives him crazy."

"Yeah?" Despite the loss of Kanda's hands on him, the temptation to touch Link, to bring to life those half-painted fantasies spun by Kanda's words, was too much to ignore. They were so close, it was simply a matter of swinging one leg over Link's thighs, hands settling around Link's shoulders.

Link's hands fluttered to Allen's hips, resting there and molding against him, and Allen wished he could feel Link against him, soft and warm, different from Kanda's calloused touch but just as exhilarating. He debated shifting Link's hands himself, but was reluctant to let go of Link.

Like this, his face was just a bit higher than Link's, and he could see the fine flicker of Link's lashes as he looked up at Allen, tremulous and heart-wrenching. All Allen wanted to do was kiss him again and again, savoring that tender expression, all at once exposed and there for him, them, together.

Transfixed, Allen watched Link's throat bob as he swallowed, hard, eyes flitting between Allen and Kanda like twin fireflies. It seemed to be taking an enormous amount of effort for him to find his words, and he opened and closed his mouth several times first before he began to speak — at first haltingly, then, in a messy, tumultuous rush.

"Don't... don't talk about me like I'm not here," Link said, sounding so beautiful and so helpless than Allen found himself holding back a buoyant laugh. Kanda, on the other hand, didn't bother biting his laughter back. It was a quiet, knowing laugh, and not exactly a kind one. Condescending, perhaps.

"Oh, you're free to join in anytime, Link," he said, his voice now dangerously silky. It sent a thrill running through Allen. He liked this Kanda, deadly and confident and teasingly open. "Why don't you tell us how you like it?"

Link opened his mouth again, but nothing came out, pulled up short between Allen's expectant, curious expression and Kanda's taunting smile. Kanda laughed again.

Without Allen sitting between them, Kanda moved even closer, hand reaching out and sliding along Allen's arm on Link's shoulder before settling on his nape, thumb caressing the skin there. 

Then, around a smile sly and taunting, Kanda asked, "How do you like to be fucked, Link?" Caught off guard, Link let out this sound, hips bucking slightly beneath Allen, lips parted on a soundless moan. Kanda waited all of a second for Link's response, and Allen could see the moment Kanda's expression turned devious. Without warning, Kanda raked his nails down Link's neck, between his shoulder blades, all the way down along his spine, and Link cried out, fingers digging into Allen's skin as he rocked against him.

Pleased, Kanda smirked and said, "Told you his neck is sensitive." His hand drifted back up Link's back, gentle touch in sharp contrast to his biting words, a combination that seemed to work Link into a flustered mess.

Link sucked in a shaky breath, fingers dancing up Allen's side in a gesture that seemed more distracted than seeking, but one that reminded Allen of how close they all were. He loved it. Being between them, near them, together with them. 

Allen wound his fingers through Link's hair, pulling that far-away gaze back to him and leaned towards Link, away from the side Kanda was on, "Since we're sharing, why don't you tell me what kind of lover Kanda is?" His voice fell into a playful, conspiratorial whisper, his hands sliding up underneath the hem of Link's shirt, feeling the warm, hard give of Link's body under his hands. "Only seems fair."

Link really laughed then, short and breathy, eyes tracking over to Kanda. Allen allowed him his moment of consideration, focusing on how reactive Link was, the twitch of hard muscle under soft skin, his stilted breaths that skirted the side of Allen's neck. Link's hands, encouraged by Allen's own mischievous curiosity, slid up Allen's sides, explorative.

"I think he'd be—" Link cut off, licking his lips and glancing at Allen before going back to Kanda, fingers squeezing Allen's side.  _"He is,"_  Link amended firmly, before trailing off again. "He's... gentle. Thorough. Surprisingly tender. All this—" He lifted one hand and gestured vaguely up towards Kanda and the smug, cheeky grin that was now rapidly fading from his face, "—This is all a front. All bark and no bite, just wants to give and give and give." Link's hand fell, lingering over the edge of his own collar, and Allen knew he was remembering the marks Kanda had given him. 

Kanda's sudden touch on his back startled Allen into jolting, and he looked back over and found that the front Link had claimed was gone. The final traces of laughter had fled from his eyes — and now, in contrast to his earlier teasing, he looked dead serious. Not angry, Allen realized after a beat, eyes locked on Kanda's expression in unashamed fascination. Not angry, and not embarrassed. If anything, he seemed surprised. As if this sort of judgement was unexpected, like maybe Link was pointing out something Kanda hadn't even really known about himself.

Kanda's hand swept up his back, passing just short of where Link's hands were, and ruffled his collar, over his neck, fingers threading into Allen's hair and cupping his head, a gesture so tender it tugged at Allen's heartstrings. When Allen turned towards him, Kanda's hand drifted down, until Allen's cheek was leaning into his palm. 

All Allen could think of was that look in Link's eyes, the one he kept mistaking again and again. It was there now, reflected in Kanda's gaze where he looked at Allen, and with a start Allen realized that Kanda really had gentled. Kanda took in a deep shuddering breath, as if he was about to say something, but instead he leaned forward, and for a long heart-stopping moment, Allen thought he was going to kiss him.

Instead, Kanda sighed and ducked down, nosing affectionately under Allen's jaw into the crook of his shoulder, lips just shy of touching his skin as he murmured, "And you like it."

That teasing, taunting tone was gone, voice rounded and soft — tender, like Link said.

Kanda's hand had fallen from Allen's cheek to follow the path of his neck, shoulder, down his arm, just wandering, seeking caresses, as if touching Allen just for the mere pleasure of it. Allen wondered if Kanda could hear his heart, how fast it beat, rapid and shyly fluttering. Like this, Allen couldn't see his face, but he could feel Kanda. How broad his shoulders were, the smell of his cologne, head just so that Allen could rest his cheek on it.

Instead, he looked up at Link's face, wondering at the odd smile he wore. 

Link laughed again, kind of self-deprecating, kind of rueful. "Yes," he said, not meeting Allen's eye but taking his hand, mindlessly touching as he did when he was lost in his thoughts. "I do. I do like it."

The pad of Link's thumb swiped over Allen's knuckles. Kanda's feather-light fingertips had traced down the swell of Allen's forearm and found his hand, easily interlacing their fingers. Allen leaned back, pressing back into Kanda's touch, mesmerized by the sight of Link's warm, rough hands idly turning his own over — the stark black of his tattoo standing out in such complete contrast to his own pale skin. The tattoo  _Allen_ had given him, so long ago; a mark of Allen's own making.

Suddenly, Allen felt ridiculously, intoxicatingly complete with happiness.

This. This is what he'd wanted, all this time.

Kanda pulled back then, level with Allen's face, and Allen knew everything he was feeling was stupidly written there, plain as day, but there was no hiding this even if Allen wanted to. 

Kanda had this way of looking at Allen, as if Allen had all of his attention, or was the only one around that mattered. Just entirely focused on him, eyes so expressive where his face fell blankly, like a thin veneer hiding all that Kanda felt. Allen always squirmed under that look, aware of its implications, ones he'd assumed too much of before. But like this, what else was there to think? What else, but to assume that the traitorous feeling swelling in his chest, making him feel weightless as air, was the same as the tumultuous emotion in Kanda's eyes?

Thinking hadn't served Allen very well before, and it was failing him now. Kanda's touch found his chin, guiding his face towards his, feather-light, the tiniest amount of pressure needed, but enough to have Allen's heart racing. Link's breathing stilled, watching them intently enough that Allen should've felt embarrassed, but all he felt was wondrously light. 

"When you look like this," Kanda said, voice whisper-soft, hushed, speaking only to them and into the space they all shared, now, "it makes me—" his fingers twitched on Allen's chin, and Allen held completely still, desperate not to chase this moment away. "When you make this face, just like Link," Kanda murmured, "all I want to do is kiss you."

"Then kiss me," Allen whispered, eyes locked on Kanda's, "kiss me like you do Link."

Kanda sucked in a sharp breath, eyes alarmingly blue from so close, and before Allen could regret his words, Kanda pulled Allen closer, breath ghosting over Allen's lips where he hovered close. 

And then Kanda's mouth was on Allen's, knocking the breath from his lungs.

At first, Kanda's kiss was almost shockingly chaste, warm and dry and head-spinningly sweet. _It's true,_ Allen thought dazedly, his heartbeat picking up into a fast-staccato rhythm as Kanda's lips moved carefully over his own.  _It's true, it's all true, just like Link said. He is gentle._

Then, Kanda was nudging Allen's mouth open, and at the first brush of Kanda's tongue against his own, Allen lost the ability to think at all.

Thighs swung over Link's lap, Link's hand interlaced with his, squeezing tighter, tighter, his free hand sliding up one of Allen's thighs, hot and fervent, fingertips digging in enough to drag — and Kanda's tongue against his, tasting like gin and everything Allen ever wanted. 

Kanda's kiss was slow and soft, but deep; he kissed Allen as if he was drinking him in. Allen's hands went lax in Link and Kanda's hands, feeling languid and boneless and so fucking good with every moment Kanda spent kissing him. For all of Kanda's tenderness, Allen felt staggered — overwhelmed by  _this_ , by Kanda, by Link, and by the tumult of want that was roiling through his stomach with the force of a hurricane.

Kanda's hand slid free from Allen's just to find its way in the short tufts of Allen's hair, threading through but still impossibly gentle, just cradling Allen's head as Kanda coaxed him closer, higher, weightless on this feeling.

Kanda ended the kiss as gently as he'd started it — slowly, with a lingering gaze as he kissed Allen lightly one last time, hand sliding from Allen's hair, drifting down his back as if to touch him just a bit longer. Allen nearly chased Kanda, but Link's hand on his thigh drifting up and around drew him back, and with one last love-lorn look Allen turned to Link.

His eyes were fever-bright, intense as he watched them, and Allen could see the beginnings of a question in the part of his lips, eyes alight with a dawning realization. Link, beautiful incredible Link, who still mindlessly touched Allen even with Kanda right beside them.

And yet, there was something there, some hesitation Allen couldn't quite name flickering in Link's eyes. Whatever it was, it was horribly, terribly sad, and suddenly Allen could feel that sadness echoing through him, as sharp as fear, as deep as grief. Although Allen couldn't quite understand the source of Link's uncertainty, he did understand hurt, and here it was, all knotted up inside the man he loved.

Link wet his lips. His eyes flitted from Allen to Kanda to the door of Allen's apartment, several paces away.

"Should I..." He began, and then bit his lip, deep in thought. 

Whatever he'd intended to say, Allen wouldn't hear it.

Pulling apart from Kanda, Allen leaned back in to slide into Link's lap completely. He pressed forwards, unashamed, and kissed Link full on the mouth. Like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world.

He wondered Link could taste Kanda on Allen's tongue. Wondered if Link would recognize that taste, if he was already beyond familiar with the workings of Kanda's body. 

Kanda shifted and leaned far back enough to watch them, and maybe it should've been odd, or weird, or different, but all Allen felt was wholly complete, knowing Kanda was right there beside them, with Link moving under him, responding to his kiss.

Link made a soft sound in the back of his throat, almost like a whimper, and then his hands were in Allen's hair, cradling him, tilting Allen's chin up as he moved against him, as if pulling Allen even closer was all Link wanted, needed, just as surely as it was for Allen.  

He wrapped his arms around Link's shoulders, chest to chest, sliding so close that he could feel the swell of Link's erection against him, dragging a filthy groan from him as Link shuddered.

Fumbling at Link's collar, Allen freed two buttons before Link inhaled sharply, breaking their kiss to stare at Allen, cheeks flushed and gaze bright with that adoring look Allen saw time and again.

"Wha—" Link stuttered, licking his lips and allowing another kiss from Allen, who couldn't resist. 

Link jolted and curled into Allen, tucking his face into the crook of Allen's neck with a small gasp as Kanda slid his hand along his lower-back, under his shirt, and up, intent in his exploration. 

Link had been sliding bit by bit against the sofa, and with his sudden moment against Allen, it sent him falling back onto the arm of the chair right beside them, so that he was half-lying with Allen straddling his lap.

Link looked up at Allen, ears red and blond hair falling from his face, caressing his cheeks and highlighting the flush there. Stray locks of hair curled around his neck, inviting Allen's gaze as he perched on top Link's lap, hands fisted in his shirt. 

With overeager fingers, he managed to fumble two more buttons open, exposing Link's skin all the way down to his sternum. It would've been impossible to resist touching, so Allen didn't bother resisting. He brushed his knuckles over Link's neck, hand falling over his shoulders, his chest. And there was that memory again — Link's neck and shoulders marked up with Kanda's love, dark and flushed and infuriatingly hot.

Allen touched Link's collarbone with a cool gentle, gentle wonderment, loving the firm feel of it beneath his fingertips. Slowly, blearily he turned his head to smile at Kanda, half-wistful, half-wanting.

 "You know, you did a good job on him," he said. "I haven't been able to forget it," Allen murmured, brushing his fingers over Link's skin. There was a blank look to Kanda's expression, which really, Allen should've expected. Link's breathing hitched though, and Allen looked back to find his face cherry-red, eyes wide with both the half-remembered tang of shame and the sudden sharp arousal Allen could still feel against him.

Touching Link aimlessly, tracing patterns in subtle movements, Allen continued, "When I came over last Sunday, I saw Link and... his neck, it was covered in..." Allen's face grew hot at the memory and he bit his lip, laughing quietly as understanding dawned in Kanda's eyes.

Kanda's eyes flickered over the skin exposed, surely superimposing his own memory over the Link between Allen's thighs. Briefly, Allen wondered how Kanda had given them. With Link on his back? Against a wall? Or had Link been straddling Kanda, much like Allen was straddling Link now?

Moving closer, Kanda's arms slid around Allen's waist again, the forceful flex of his muscles bringing Allen back against his chest. Kanda was sitting between Link's legs now, a position that sent a thrill down Allen's stomach, leaving him helplessly shifting above Link.

A soft huff on the back of his neck drew Allen back from his wandering thoughts, and he wondered if Kanda was smiling to match his quiet amused laugh. "I haven’t been able to forget either," Kanda confessed, voice pitched low. "He bruises easily, doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't know," Allen answered truthfully. "But I want to find out."

"Then do it."

An attractive offer. Allen bit his lip, tracing an idle pattern over Link's skin, imagining what it might feel like to run the same course with his tongue. Suddenly, he was struck by the thought that it would be wrong to even try — wrong to put his mark on something that didn't belong to him.

"I... I don't..."  

He was surprised into silence by the sensation of Kanda's hand guiding his own, bringing it to rest just beneath Link's collarbone, right at his core.

"Go on," Kanda urged him on, quiet, dark. "He likes it.”

Allen trailed his hand down Link's sternum, feeling the flutter of his breath as Link openly watched him — both Link and Kanda were so expressive with their eyes alone, and the unbridled desire displayed openly on Link's face for Allen to see spurred him on. 

Leaning down, Kanda's arms slid to his abdomen, sending all sorts of interesting thoughts to Allen's body, but he ignored them in favor of hovering over the one lovebite he remembered best, blooming red right over Link's heart. He wavered just above Link's skin, dragging out as long as he could the moment where Link's breath quickened just for him.

"Was it here?" Allen whispered, breath hot where it reflected off Link. 

Kanda's arms tightened imperceptibly as he shifted, moving to see. He hummed in approval, and Allen laughed, thrilled when Link shivered. 

Then, his gaze locked with Link's for as long as he could before slowly, pain-stakingly, pressing the softest mimicry of a kiss on Link's chest, just over his heart, echoing what Kanda had done long ago.

Link sucked in a sharp breath, but Allen wanted —  _he wanted, wanted, wanted_  — to know, would Link's skin bruise for him just like it did for Kanda? Surely it would, but there was nothing stopping Allen from parting his lips and sliding his tongue over Link's skin, from turning the barest graze of teeth into a  _bite_ and finding out firsthand just what sort of claim he could make on Link's body. So he did, loving the feeling of Link's body bucking up in shock, loving the sounds Link made as Allen trailed his lips upwards from Link's breastbone to the column of his throat.

"Yeah," Kanda said, voice rough. Allen leaned back to examine his work, thrilled to find he could feel Kanda's clothed erection pressing hard against the cleft of his ass. Kanda's hips jerked up against him unsteadily, just once, a shallow little thrust that caught Allen's breath in his throat. "Yeah—  just like that,  _fuck_."

Kanda's low throaty moan dragged one from Link, and when he bucked up this time he caught on Allen's erection, and with a gasp Allen dropped a hand to Link's chest, grinding down and attempting to chase the fire that'd started to burn between them. 

Throwing caution to the wind, Allen fisted a hand in Link's white shirt, pulling Link back up to meet him and curving a hand around the back of Link's neck, possessive and demanding and everything Allen always held back.

Kanda's arms slid away from Allen's abdomen, hands trailing to hold his waist instead, thumb kneading into bone with a pressure that hurt enough to steal Allen's breath, and clumsily he kissed up Link's jaw, his chin, to the corner of his mouth, parting his lips to let Link's tongue slide against his.

Allen let go of Link with one hand to trace down his chest, finding Kanda's and interlacing their fingers over his hip, a movement so sensual that Allen suddenly desperately wished he could feel them against his skin.

He tugged at his own shirt, and Kanda wasted no time in pulling it up and over Allen's arms, breaking his kiss with Link for just a moment. His bare chest slid against Link's where his shirt was falling open, and Kanda's calloused warm hands freely roamed over Allen's body, mouthing along his shoulders, his back, everywhere he could reach.

Kanda was thrusting up behind Allen and Allen was squirming down against Link and it was messy and imperfect and so, so fucking  _good_. Allen could come like this, he really could —  come in his pants riding Link's lap dry, tasting each and every one of Link's pleas and moans while Kanda anchored him from behind, hands on his waist, mouth at his nape, and God, they really ought to move to the bedroom before any of that happened, because Allen would hate for this to be over too soon, because he'd never get this lucky again in his entire life—

"Wait," Link gasped, voice falling on a breathy note as he struggled to get his breath. He squirmed beneath Allen restlessly, almost as if to fight him off. "Wait, no, no, we can't—"

When Allen didn't immediately stop, Link jerked his hands free from Allen's waist and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back and stilling all movement. Slowly, Allen registered Link's words, and he dropped his hands, staring at him in confusion.

"Not," Link breathed, head bowed as he attempted to catch his breath, avoiding Allen's stare, "not like this. It's not—" he bit off his words, taking one last shuddering breath before he settled, and gone was the desire, the want, the love and adoration and everything Allen had treasured. Link's face was measured now, almost blank. Allen knew he was forcing it, knew Link could lie with the best of them, but the rejection stung more than he could handle.

Behind Allen, Kanda had jerked to a halt. Slowly, his arms fell away from Allen, and he pushed forwards to meet Link's eyes over Allen's shoulders.

"Not what?" He prompted Link, the tone of his voice surprisingly level.

"Not fair," Link blurted, and then, as if regretting his words, he amended with, "Not right. It's— this isn't right. Not like this." His eyes flickered back towards Allen, who was swaying in Link's lap with mute, wordless surprise. "You're drunk," Link continued, the harsh edges in his voice ebbing out into something gentler.

"I'm not," Allen said immediately, and Link actually laughed at this; a sad, empty noise that echoed through the apartment without humor.

"No, you are. You are." He slid back, head knocking against the arm of the couch once with a dull  _thud_. "I... I can't do this. I'm sorry."

Feeling painfully awkward, Allen slid off Link's lap and Kanda thoughtfully moved back, giving him room to sit. The moment Allen was off Link swung his legs over the edge of the sofa, moving to sit with his back ramrod straight.

For the next minute they just sat there, breathing petering out into something resembling normal. Link seemed to be the most affected of all, hands gripping the edge of the sofa where he sat properly and as far from them as he could get, head bowed and turned away.

Allen didn't know what to do, or where to look, or even what to say to somehow fix all this. Like a cold splash of water, it felt like he'd woken up from an impossibly beautiful dream, one Allen didn't deserve, had never deserved, should never have even attempted.

He wanted to touch Link, just his arm, or his hand. Maybe to cup his cheek and somehow bring back the look so full of love Allen could've sworn was there just moments before, but something cold as terror, hot like shame, held him tight, kept him still. 

God. He'd— he'd gone too far. Done too much. Been shameless and desperate and threw himself at them and maybe they'd just gone along with it, or happened to be in the mood, but reality was crashing down on him now, relentless and ruthless, telling him this is it. This is the end of whatever possibilities, whatever relationship they ever had.

Tears stung in Allen's eyes, mourning everything, and he bit his lip in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay, wishing he could do nothing more than to curl into a tiny ball and disappear.

He tried to keep his breathing clear of any noticeable hitches, but something must've slipped because Link stood violently and suddenly, startling Allen into jerking to face him.

Link ran his hand through his bangs, short and angry, and dread opened a black pit in Allen's stomach. He wanted to apologize, to somehow make this better, but his voice had shriveled up and his heart was lodged in his throat. 

Despite Kanda still sitting right beside him, warm as could be, Allen felt cold.

Expelling a breath, Link glanced down, and the moment he caught sight of Allen's face all traces of anger or unhappiness bled away, replaced by the softest expression Allen had ever seen Link wear.

"No," Link murmured, hesitating before reaching towards Allen, fingers catching on the edge of Allen's eyes to coax the tears away. "It's not— I promise, this isn't your fault. We can talk in the morning, I won't." Link offered a tiny smile, one Allen could easily recognize as solely for his sake. "I won't be angry, I just — I just need to think about this, okay?"

Link could lie with the best of them, but at the moment all Allen saw was sincerity. 

He wanted to grab Link's hand, hold him there and ask him,  _please don't go,_  but Allen just sat there, watching Link meet Kanda's gaze next.

Instantly his smile fell, and even Allen could see past the struggling facade of normalcy to the deep-seated unhappiness Link felt. Finally, Kanda moved beside him, but Allen stared at his knees, knowing that Kanda, blunt honest truthful Kanda, would not lie for his sake like Link.

"Hey," Kanda's voice was surprisingly gentle, and from the corner of his eye Allen could see him reach out for Link's wrist. Link stepped away and Kanda's hand fell back. "What's wrong?"

"We shouldn't have," Link burst, like a pot of water boiling over, coming apart at the seams. Where he'd fallen quiet for Allen, his anger now rose for Kanda, and Allen could hear it in the bitter cutting edge of his voice. "Even if he was sober, the way we're—"

Allen could almost hear Link bite his tongue to stop his words. Then, calmer, "I'm going outside. Take care of him."

"Link," Kanda started, more forcefully, but Link had already turned his back on them. He paced back across the room towards the door, fussing with both hands to right the collar of his shirt and work it back up to his chin. 

Instantly, Kanda stood to follow Link, then stalled at the foot of the couch, glancing back at Allen reluctantly. There was the sound of the door clicking shut, then, and Link's footsteps beating down through the hallway outside of Allen's apartment — moving further and further away from them with each passing second.

"Fuck," Kanda breathed, and he looked between Allen and the door and then Allen again before saying, "I'll be right back, shit— I just need to go talk with him, alright?"

Suddenly, Allen started to feel somewhat dizzy. He put his head down against the couch, right where Link had been sitting a moment prior — it was still warm, this side of the couch. If Allen concentrated, he thought he could still catch the smell of Link's cologne, a scent so lovely and difficult to describe.

"You'll be back?" Allen repeated, and then he went stiff with fear — he'd lost Link, and now he was losing Kanda too—

"Yes,  _yes_ , I will, I promise," Kanda said, sounding uncharacteristically desperate, and he started towards the door again, deliberating for only a moment now as his eyes met Allen's — flashing, just once, and maybe for the last time, with something worshipfully gentle.

The door slammed shut and Kanda's steps echoed after Link's, and then Allen was alone. Suddenly, somewhere, that love song was playing again, and Allen buried his face into the sofa.

**Author's Note:**

> A love letter to a ship we dearly love. 
> 
> hurryupfic @ tumblr | fuckhowardlink @ twitter  
> nea-writes @ tumblr | nea_chi @ twitter


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